Remembering the Seeker
by Realmer06
Summary: I know this doesn't begin to make up for anything I've done, and I am so desperately sorry for everything I've put you all through. I don't ask for your forgiveness, or any forgiveness at all. I ask only that you try to understand why.
1. The letter

Author's Note: Yes, you have stumbled upon the third and final part of the Seeker trilogy. Although this one can be read alone. So If you haven't yet read parts one and two, don't be discouraged! Keep reading, it's fine! Now, I feel it only fair to warn you that this portion of the Trilogy will be a tad longer than its fellows. I realized this when I had written about 10,000 words, a little more than 24 pages, and had just reached the halfway mark. So, it will be uploaded in three parts. This is part one. Part two will be up just as soon as it's finished. Enjoy the last installment! (and I encourage you to read Watching the Seeker and Capturing the Seeker either now or later, too!)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Peter or Remus or anyone from the Potterverse. Wish it were otherwise, true enough, but sadly, they belong to the genius that is JK Rowling.

Keep in mind: Writing between dashes (-- like this --) is a flashback.

* * *

**Remembering the Seeker**

_I know this doesn't begin to make up for anything I've done, and I am so desperately sorry for everything I've put you all through. I don't ask for your forgiveness, or any forgiveness at all. I ask only that you try to understand why._

As he signed the letter, one tear dropped onto the page. Flashes of a scene three years ago took over, as much as he tried to stop them.

—"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. . ." _It was my fault! I admit it! But let me explain!—_

He folded the letter carefully.

—"He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too . . . . You've got to help me, Remus . . ." _No, tell them the truth! Admit why! Help them understand!—_

He placed the letter in its envelope.

—"When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter – I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start." _No, please! _"You always liked big friends who'd look after you . ." _No! That's not it, I swear! It wasn't like that! _"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it." _I told them not to, begged them—_". . finestmoment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters." _You don't understand! I would never hurt James! He forced the truth!—_

He addressed it to Moony, hoping Remus would read.

—"James would have understood, Harry . . . he would have shown me mercy . ."_ He said it didn't matter . . he said "Oh, well,"—_

"To Remus," he whispered to the owl.

—"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!" _I tried! I was trying to keep you safe! Please understand! How can I make you believe?— _

He watched as the owl bearing his letter flew away, knowing what would happen now.

—"You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family." _NO! He promised to keep you safe! To keep James safe! I foolishly trusted him, yes, but I would never sell James to him! James knew that!—_

He collapsed in a chair, hand over his eyes, and let himself remember.

* * *

—"James, you've got to stop him! I tried, but he wouldn't listen!" Peter Pettigrew panted, running the Common Room. The sixth year boy with messy black hair looked up as he came in.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Sirius! He's telling Snape how to get past the Whomping Willow. He's probably already told him! I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen!" James had jumped up at the words 'Whomping Willow.'

"Peter, listen to me. Find Sirius and keep him here. I don't care how; Stun him if you have to, but get him here and hold him here. I'm going after Snape." He grabbed his cloak and headed for the portrait hole.

"Hurry!" Peter said after him. James ran down to the Entrance Hall as fast as he could. Running out onto the grounds, he glanced at the sky. The moon was full, near the horizon. The transformation would have just taken place.

He stopped briefly to catch his breath, but started running again as he saw a shadow approach the Whomping Willow. _And I'm too far away to stop him!_ James cursed mentally.

"Snape!" he yelled. "Stop!" The figure turned, holding a long branch, and leered at him as James ran closer.

"No! Finally, _I'll _know Remus' secret, too!"

"Snape, don't do this!" James shouted in vain before the tree froze and Snape disappeared under its roots. James quickened his pace. The tree unfroze just before he reached it, whipping violently, catching him across the face. Ignoring the blood running down the side of his face, he picked up the branch Snape had dropped, knowing the danger increased every second. He ducked the branches and pressed the knot. Gasping for breath, he stumbled down the pathway under the roots.

From far ahead of him, he heard a growl and found an underlying store of energy. He raced along the corridor, turning a final curve. He gasped. There in front of him were two figures. One was Snape, pale, trembling, and apparently frozen in place. And ahead of him was the werewolf who had just caught sight of the human within its reach.

The werewolf snarled again, turning completely and advancing on Snape.

"Severus, run!" James shouted. Snape jumped but remained frozen. "_Get out of here!_" James shouted more urgently, shaking Severus just as the werewolf charged. That was all it took. Severus turned and fled. James transformed not a moment too soon, and caught the charging werewolf with his stag's horns. He reared and knocked the werewolf down, then pushed him back through the door that was standing open, but not before he had managed to get a few scratches on him. Once it was inside, James transformed back into his human form, slammed it shut, and gasped "Colloportus," before collapsing by the door.

He could hear Remus on the other side, howling in his rage. "Sorry, Moony," he whispered. He did not want to think about what might have happened if Peter had not told him in time. As his exhaustion and horror melted away, a new feeling filled him. Anger. Anger at what Sirius had almost done.

Seething, he strode out through the tunnel and back up towards the school. By the time he reached Gryffindor Common Room, he was shaking with suppressed rage, angrier with Sirius than he had ever been before. Peter took one look at James' face and silently pointed toward the fire, where Sirius was sulking, his face illuminated by the flames. James advanced, breathing hard and scowling.

"That was stupid, Sirius," he said, his voice icy cold. "That was probably the stupidest thing you've ever done. You are an idiot!" He flung every word at Sirius, but Sirius merely snorted and didn't look at him.

"He deserved it."

"Who?"

"Snape. He deserved what he got. Idiotic prat."

"Now is not the time for you to be judging others, Sirius."

"What is the big deal, James?" Sirius asked, finally standing to face him.

"The 'big deal'?" James asked, incredulous. "The 'big deal' is that you got so caught up in your petty little revenge against Snape that you didn't stop to consider the consequences. You just jumped right in!"

"I thought about them. I'm probably looking at detention, but I don't –"

"_Not for you_," James shouted, finally losing his temper. "Right now, I don't really care what happens to you! I'm talking about Remus. The consequences for _Remus_. Did you consider _them_?" Sirius froze and the blood drained from his face. He mouthed soundlessly. James continued heartlessly. "No, you didn't. You completely forgot that while you were sending Snape to face a werewolf, that werewolf is a person and that person is supposedly your best friend! You _idiot_! Don't you realize what might have happened?"

Sirius sat down, face ashen. "I - I didn't think – " he started, weakly. James showed him no mercy.

"_That_ is extremely obvious." The ice had returned to his voice. "You didn't think. You _know_ the time following transformation is the most painful part! You _know_, that had your plan managed to work, we wouldn't have been facing two werewolves at Hogwarts. We would have been facing one mangled body and one Remus being called up in front of a committee and being destroyed as a danger to society! You _know_ the Ministry's views on werewolves. And you know that Dumbledore had to play a lot of power cards to get Remus here in the first place! You _know_ all that. You just didn't _think_. And what's more, you didn't listen. Peter tried to stop you, and from now on, if I were you, I'd listen to Peter, because his voice is carrying a lot more weight than yours right now, and his head is on a whole lot straighter!"

"James," Peter said quietly and shook his head. James sighed.

"Sirius, you are going to sit right here and wait. Snape will have wasted no time in going to Dumbledore, and I need to make an attempt to fix what you have done tonight, to keep two of my best friends from being expelled. You are going to wait there until you are called for by the Headmaster, at which time, you will make no excuses, but simply tell the truth and take full responsibility for what happened tonight." James looked at Sirius, who was still staring, lost, into the fire. A tear slid down his cheek, and James' expression softened, anger flowing out of him at the sight.

The exhaustion coming back, James sat beside Sirius and put an arm around his shoulder. Sirius jumped and turned his grief-stricken face toward James. "I'm not trying to be the bad guy, Sirius," James said quietly. "I _do_ care what happens to you. I just don't understand what happened to make you lose sight of what's most important. And I'm sorry this happened at all."

James sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and strode from the Common Room. He wound his way through the halls and quickly as he could, before stopping in front of the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. He leaned against the wall, waiting.

He didn't have long to wait. All too soon, the gargoyle had leapt aside, and Snape, white-faced, stepped out. When he saw James, he tried to sneer, but the expression was considerably less effective than normal.

"You'll pay for this, Potter. You and your little friends. You'll pay–"

"That is enough, Mr. Snape. Please head for the Hospital Wing while I talk to Mr. Potter."

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, James followed the Headmaster into his office. He caught sight of himself in a mirror on the wall and grimaced. A large welt on his forehead was still bleeding sluggishly. He put a hand up to the wound, gasping at the pain. Dumbledore handed him a damp cloth.

"Thank you," he muttered, pressing it to his head.

"I would send you straight to the Hospital Wing, did I not need to speak with you, undeterred by pain potions." When James nodded, he continued. "I do not, I think, need to impose upon you the seriousness of what has happened tonight, James."

"No, sir."

"Mr. Snape was demanding you be expelled, all four of you, but I would hope to avoid expelling anyone." Dumbledore's face was grave. "What happened?"

"I was in the Common Room when Peter rushed in, saying Sirius hd told Severus how to get past the Whomping Willow. Peter claimed he tried to stop both Sirius and Severus, but with no success. So he came and got me. I told him to find Sirius and hold him in the Common Room while I went to try and stop Severus. He wouldn't listen to me, either, and before I could physically stop him, he had gone. I followed as quickly as I could. The tree caught me in the face. Scratched my arms up, too." The scratches on his arms were really from Remus, and though James felt guilty lying to the Headmaster, he knew it was better for Remus this way. "At the end of the passageway was Severus, wand in hand, frozen in place. The door was open and Remus was standing in the doorway, ready to charge. I pushed Severus out of the way and told him to run. I finally got through to him, and he did, just Remus charged at me, instead."

Dumbledore leaned forward, eyes full off concern. "He didn't bite you, did he, James?"

"No, sir."

"He didn't hurt you at all?" Dumbledore sounded incredulous. James shook his head. "How on earth did you managed to fight off a fully grown werewolf?" James stood uncomfortably. He hated lying to Dumbeldore, but the truth was serious enough to _really_ get them expelled.

"I was lucky," he settled on. "I was damn lucky. Sorry, Professor. I Stunned him in the eyes before he had enough time to dodge. I resealed the door after getting him back inside. Then I went back to the Common Room where Sirius was waiting for me.

"Sir, I'm not going to make excuses for Sirius. He was stupid. His lack of thought put everything you worked for to get Remus here in jeopardy. I don't know what happened to make him lose his head so badly, but he honestly hadn't thought of the consequences. It took me to impress that upon him. He knows now. Once he realized . . . he's not going to make any excuses, either."

"Severus thinks you were in on this. Were you?"

"No, sir."

"And Peter?"

"No, sir."

"Sirius has full responsibility?"

James nodded gravely. "Yes, sir."

"Bring him to me. Bring them both. Then report to Madam Pomfrey." Nodding, James returned to the Common Room. Heart heavy, he took Peter and Sirius to see Dumbledore. Dumbledore spoke with Peter first, leaving James and Sirius outside. Sirius was white with shock.

"What have I done? What have I done?" he kept whispering, guilt racking his body.

After a few minutes, Peter came out, and Sirius, meek for the first time in his life, went in. Peter sat on the ground beside James, where they sat in silence for a long while. Then James spoke.

"He's lucky you were there, Pete. They both were." Peter shook his head.

"Did you tell Dumbledore about us?"

"No. Did you?"

"No, but I feel awful about lying."

"Me too. But tonight is not the night to reveal such things."

"Do you think Sirius will?"

"I don't know."

"James . . . I got you because I knew I couldn't have done anything. A rat is no good against a werewolf. I'm not strong enough." James heard something in his voice. Envy? No, it wasn't envy. It was . . regret. And worry.

"You were strong, Peter. You were strong enough to know your limitations. Not everyone is."

"Really?" Peter looked up at his friend, hopeful.

"Really."

"James . ." Peter hesitated before continuing. "You . . . you know I would never do anything to hurt you, don't you?" A line of worry creased James' forehead, and he winced involuntarily at the pain. "Shouldn't you be in the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes, but this is more important. I know that you would never hurt me, Peter. As I would do nothing to hurt you. Why do you ask?" Peter shrugged and looked away.

"Things people are saying."

"What things?"

"That . . . that I just – hang around you three. That I do it for – the glory, or the power. That . . that I'm not really your friend, just something to . . . amuse you." He hung his head.

"Absolutely not," James said firmly. "That is true in no way, and you know it. And anyone who would say such things isn't worth listening to. I value your friendship, Pete. You know that, right?"

"Yes, but . . ."

"But what?"

"The Animagus form a person takes is supposed to represent their true inner self. And I'm a rat." Peter looked up to meet James' eyes, pain etched in his face. "Sirius is a dog, and it's easy to see why. He's fun and playful and doesn't take anything seriously. You're a stag, and that's no mystery, either. Powerful and respected, with grace and charm. But me?" His voice broke. "I'm a rat. What does that honestly say about me? A rat! A creature known for spreading disease, a creature people shrink from. A sneak, a filch, a liar, a scoundrel, a thief. Someone who . . who can't be trusted. That's who I am." He was bitter now. "I am so . . . afraid . . . of living up to my inner self, James. It terrifies me," he whispered.

James listened, patiently. This had been eating at his friend for a good while now, that was plain to see. "What year were you born, Peter?" he asked softly. Peter looked startled by the question.

"1960, you know that."

"The rest of us were born in '59, but you were born in '60. Do you know what 1960 is?" Peter shook his head, bewildered. "It's the year of the Rat in Chinese Zodiac. Do you know what being born in the year of the Rat means? It means you tend to be imaginative, charming, and truly generous to the people you love. You are compatible with others, hard-working, and never without admirers. Your attributes range from charm and humor to honesty and meticulousness. You learn early and quickly and are able to express yourself easily."

"I'm not going to ask how you know all that, James, even though I find it a bit freakish that you do, but you can extol the virtues all you want. There has to be a downside somewhere." James shrugged.

"True enough. You tend to be a penny pincher. You keep your own secrets well, but want to learn everything about everyone else's. You also try to do too much at once. You scatter yourself too thin, and end up accomplishing little. You hunger after power and wealth and status."

"See?" Peter said bitterly.

"I'm not done. Rats tend to lead pleasant and happy childhoods. However, the second part of their life is often troubled with grief and guilt and turmoil. But your old age tends to be as peaceful as anyone could wish. You are level-headed in a crisis and because you live by your wits, you escape pressing situations with ease."

"James . . ."

"You know who else was a Rat? What other people were born in the year of the Rat? Plato, Haydn, Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Tolstoy!"

"Plato was thought crazy, Haydn was a schmuck, and Mozart was a drunk. Real role models."

"But they were brilliant."

"But I'm not." He looked at the floor again. It was costing him to say this. "I'm not brilliant and I'm not strong and –" he stopped and stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears "–and I'm . . scared. I'm scared of what I might be capable of if I'm not strong enough to resist or smart enough to recognize a trap, and someone uses that fear against me. Against you. All of you."

"Peter, look at me," James said, softly but firmly. Reluctantly, Peter turned his tear-filled eyes to meet James'. "There will be things you do in your life that you'll regret. There may be things you do in your life that I'll regret. But none of that matters. You may be led into making a wrong decision, but it will be because you thought it was benefitting your friends. There is nothing you wouldn't do to keep your friends safe. I know that. I am thankful that I am your friend, for that very reason. I have someone who would do anything to keep me safe."

"And if I fail?" He was looking away again, as if he didn't really want to ask this question, but knew he had to. His voice was quiet, almost inaudible. James shrugged.

"Oh, well." Peter looked up at him, startled, but finally gave a genuine smile.

"Thank you, James."—

Tears fell down the man's face. He didn't bother to wipe them away. "I'm sorry, James," he whispered. "This is what I was afraid of. I'm so sorry."

He stood, squared his shoulders, and faced the door, knowing what would come. And, as he faced his end, he felt no fear, no dread, had no second thoughts. He was calm. He shut the door carefully behind him and nodded. He was ready. "Goodbye," he whispered, then began his walk down the hall.

* * *

He'd grown old. The strain had begun to show long ago, but since May it had become very clear. He barely recognized the face in the mirror. Approaching forty, his sandy hair was prematurely grey and his face was drawn, its wrinkles and lines set deep. He was tired, and he'd been tired for a long time. Sighing, he looked away from the mirror, rubbing his eyes, and collapsed in a nearby chair. He stared out the window, and let himself remember.

—Memories of last night had haunted him since the moon had set. Madam Pomfrey was treating him as if it had just been a particularly painful transformation. Did she know? Did anyone know? Of course. Snape had to have told someone.

He had to think about it. He couldn't think about it. He couldn't bear to think what would have happened if James hadn't shown up. How had he known? How had Snape known? How much longer did he have before the Ministry came? Was there any way to escape what he knew had to be coming? He couldn't bear it.

"There is a visitor for you, Mr. Lupin." Remus sighed and turned his head away as the visitor approached. He didn't want to talk about it. He _had_ to talk.

A glance had shown him that his visitor was Sirius. A Sirius he didn't know. He looked close to tears and more humble and helpless than Remus had ever seen Sirius, or ever wanted to see him again. His heart, which had been lounging near his feet, now jumped into his throat. It couldn't – he hadn't –

"It was me." Sirius' voice was heavy with grief. Remus hadn't believed it. Couldn't believe it. _How_ could Sirius have done something like this? "It's all my fault, Remus. I told Snape how to get past the willow." As much as he wanted to shout, Remus remained silent, looking away. He waited for Sirius to finish.

"It was stupid. I was an idiot. I didn't think. If you never want to speak to me again, I understand. I'd deserve it."

"Were you punished?" Even Remus was surprised at how cold and detached his voice sounded.

"No Hogsmeade until after Christmas next year. I report to McGonagall at the end of classes each day, eat my dinner in solitude, and do my homework under her eye for the rest of this year. Weekends are spent in detention. I got off light, really." His voice broke. "I should have been expelled."

Remus remained silent, still not looking at Sirius. The tears spilled down his cheeks. "I would have killed him, Sirius. I wouldn't have been able to help it." Finally, he turned his head to look coldly at Sirius. "I–would–have–_killed_–him!" he said painfully through clenched teeth.

Sirius closed his eyes and look pained. "I know."

"When are they coming for me?" Each word cost him.

"Who?"

"The people from the _Ministry_, Sirius." He didn't mean to sound so harsh and cruel, but he was angry – truly angry – at Sirius for the first time in his memory. "The ones who are coming to _take me away_."

"They aren't coming." He sounded so confident of this, but it couldn't be true.

"Don't be daft, Sirius. When they read the report –"

"There is no report."

"There will be–"

"There is no report." Sirius looked up and met Remus' eyes.

"How–"

"There is no report, Remus," he said again. "There will be no report."

"How?"

"No one was hurt. Snape wasn't hurt and James wasn't hurt by you–"

"He was!"

"He won't admit it–"

"I don't want him protecting me!"

"Well, he's going to anyway!" Sirius shouted. Silence reigned for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "So is Peter. So . . so am I. As long as James doesn't change his story, there's no need for a report." Remus couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"How do you know?"

"Because I checked. And I showed Professor Dumbledore. And there won't be a report."

"Why?"

"Because none of it was your fault, Remus." Sirius sighed as a single tear fell down his cheek. "It was mine. And I took full responsibility for what happened."

"Why?" Remus didn't understand. Did he dare hope?

"I was stupid." He stood. "And I didn't think about you. And I'm trying to fix that." He started to leave.

"Sirius, wait!" Remus sat up in his bed. "You weren't going to tell me that, were you?" Sirius turned.

"Tell you what?"

"That you took the responsibility."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because. I wasn't going to beg for forgiveness from you. In one moment of anger, I almost destroyed everything that was important in my life. And I almost destroyed yours, too. And by some stroke of luck, I didn't. The punishment that I got was nothing as serious as I expected. As I deserved. So I felt losing a friend after all that wouldn't be any more than I did deserve. I'm sorry. I really am." He was crying, but he didn't look away.

Slowly, Remus climbed out of bed and crossed to him. "Oh, Padfoot. I forgive you." He pulled Sirius into a tight embrace.

"Really?" Sirius whispered.

"As long as you don't put away Padfoot forever." Sirius gave a genuine, relieved smile that brought some of the life back to his face.

"You should have seen him, Moony!" he said, helping Remus back to the bed.

"Who?"

"Peter! He tried to stop me, first with words, then bodily. When that didn't work, he tried to stop _Snape. _I didn't know he had it in him." Remus laughed, something he thought he'd never do again.—

An owl rapped on the window, startling Remus out of his reverie. He sat staring for a moment or two, trying to shake himself out of his daze. _It isn't time for post_, he thought, bewildered.

The tapping grew more impatient, and Remus opened the window to let the owl inside. It dropped its letter on the sill and flew off. Remus picked up the letter and read the name on the front.

_Moony_. He froze. He knew that handwriting. Even though he hadn't seen it for fifteen years, he knew that handwriting. Hands shaking, he opened the letter, sat down, and began to read.

_Remus,_

_Please read this letter. You have no reason to trust me, no reason to believe what I say, but please read. Please listen. There are things I must tell you, things you must know, whether you choose to believe them or not. _

_James once told me that he was proud to be my friend because there was nothing I wouldn't do to keep my friends safe. He said I'd do things I'd regret. He said I'd do things he'd regret, but that none of it mattered. If he'd known, would he still have said those things?_

_I was trying to keep you safe, Remus. I was. I don't know if you'll believe that, but I swear it's the truth. I want you to know why. I want you to know how this happened. _

_They came for me, Remus. They'd been pressuring me for a while, but they finally took me straight to him. It was just after Harry was born. He gave me a choice. He said I could defy him or join him. He promised that if I defied him, he would destroy everyone I cared about, but that if I joined him, they would be kept safe. This was before we knew of his lies, his treachery. I was foolish to believe him, to believe what he said, yes, but I was scared, Remus. I was scared for myself, but I was more scared for you. James said there was nothing I wouldn't do to keep my friends safe. Even joining the Dark Side. _

_If there was any possible way I could go back and change that moment, I would. I never dreamt for an instant that things would go this far. I begged James and Lily not to make me their Secret-Keeper. I knew what that would mean. I begged them. I told them I couldn't be trusted. I wanted to tell them everything, but when I tried, I couldn't speak. _

_He forced it out of me, Remus. He saw through my lies and forced out what I was determined to keep silent. I'm not making excuses for myself, I'm just telling the truth. I was given orders to kill Sirius and a weapon to do the job. That was my task, Remus. To kill Sirius. I couldn't. The guilt of what I'd already done to James and Lily was hard enough to bear. The Pact we made still held for me, and I couldn't break it again. So I pointed his weapon in the opposite direction. It blew the street apart and took my finger with it, but didn't kill Sirius. _

_You asked why an innocent man would remain disguised as a rat for twelve years. No, I wasn't innocent. But I wasn't hiding from anyone but myself. I simply could not bear the guilt in human form. That's why I remained a rat. Because as a rat, with a rat's emotions, that was the only way I could live with myself. I wanted to kill myself, to answer for all I'd done with the higher orders, to answer for it with James. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was too afraid._

_You should ask why I didn't tell you all this three years ago. I was scared. Seeing what had happened to Sirius, what had happened to you, knowing it was my doing, I knew I wouldn't get a chance to explain. I knew you wouldn't believe me. And rightly so. My attempt to keep you safe had failed in the worst way possible. I was desperate; I was scared. I've found out that I am most dangerous when I am scared._

_He found me, Remus. He found me. I did not seek him out. And I tried to leave. I couldn't. Maybe a stronger person could have, but I was never strong. Just strong enough to know my limitations. But when he returned last May, fuming about his defeat at the hands of Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter yet again, he claimed the only good that came out of all his carefully laid plans was the death of Sirius Black. It was then I made up my mind to end this, any way I could._

_I'm tired of living this life. I'm tired of being a coward and I'm tired of being a rat. My biggest fear, the fear I held since fifth year, came true. I lived up to my Animagus form. I became the Rat, in the worst way. I told James my fear, and he said it didn't matter. I asked him, "What if I fail?" He just shrugged and said "Oh, well." I failed, Remus, and it did matter, and no one is saying "Oh, well," now. I cannot fix what I've done. I can't come close. But I will do what I can. No matter how small it may be. _

_I am not Secret-Keeper for Him. I cannot tell you his plan. But I can tell you that it hinges on the letter I am supposed to be writing now. It is a letter that must be sent at an exact moment, to an exact person, or the plan will fail. Instead, I am sending this letter to you, explaining the pain Harry will undoubtably feel once He realizes what I have done and kills me for it. He does not expect me to sway again. He does not know I am no longer compliant. _

_You have no reason to trust me, to believe that this isn't a trick. No reason but this. I'm telling you it's not. And maybe that's not good enough, but it's all I have. I'm doing what I can, and I'm doing it the only way I know how. I won't be his slave any longer. I won't hurt the people I love anymore. I've had enough. I've done enough. _

_Harry and I have a bond, from when he saved my life three years ago. He will know. And you will know why. The time capsule waits to be opened. It's yours now. Please remember me. Not what I have become, but what I used to be. Before I made the worst mistake of my life. Remember Sirius and remember James and remember the Marauders and what that title stood for. I am sorry I destroyed that._

_I know this doesn't begin to make up for anything I've done, and I am so desperately sorry for everything I've put you all through. I don't ask for your forgiveness, or any forgiveness at all. I ask only that you try to understand why. Please. _

_Peter_

Remus sat staring at the piece of paper for a long time. He couldn't believe it. Maybe it was a hoax, but . . . it sounded so like the Peter he used to know that he just wasn't sure. He had thought he would hate Peter forever, but now . . . now, without being conscious of his choice, he had forgiven Peter.

_Please remember me. Not as I am now, but as I used to be. Before I made the worst mistake of my life. Remember Sirius and remember James and remember the Marauders and what that title stood for. I am sorry I destroyed that. _The tears came, splashing onto the letter in his hands that was already marked with tear-stains of another. _Remember the Marauders_.

He did.

* * *

End of part one. Like it so far? Review, por favor!


	2. Of werewolves and seekers and ducks

Here is part two! I'm sorry it's so long in coming, but with the release of HBP, I stopped writing as I waited to see whether my poor story would stand the test of canon, or if I would have to change things. And as it turned out, I'm fine, since the only realOOC detail at this point is that James was technically a Chaser, not a Seeker. But since I can't really change that part of my story . . . hey, he could have done both, like Ginny, right? okay.

Note: This section and a good chunk of the last are Remus' memories. This part correspondes through the end of Watching the Seeker. But we get to see James through Remus' eyes. Can't say when part 3 will be up, as i'm a busy high school senior now and don't have as much time to write as I'd like. BUt I can safely say that this story is turning out to be much longer than I first thought. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I think, comparing this to HBP, it is easy to tell that the authors are quite different. JKR is a literary genius. I'm just having fun.

* * *

—Eleven-year-old Remus stood, white-faced, with the group of the other scared first years, waiting to be Sorted.

"Black, Sirius," called Professor McGonagall, and a tall black-haired boy nodded determinedly before walking up to the stool. After a pause, the worn old hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" There was scattered applause, punctuated with frantic whispering.

Remus turned, confused to a blonde girl beside him. "Why are they whispering?" he asked her softly.

"Practically Sirius' whole family has been in Slytherin for centuries," she whispered back. "His cousin Andromeda was Sorted into Ravenclaw when she was here, and I think they disowned her. Now Sirius has been Sorted into Gryffindor, of all Houses. He's finished, for sure!"Remus whistled softly. Even as detached from the wizarding world as his childhood had been, he knew there was no love lost between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

He waited nervously as more and more first years were sorted. The red-headed Lily Evans, who had apparently encountered some trouble on the train, though Remus hadn't seen it, was Sorted into Gryffindor. She glared at the Slytherin table before taking her place beside Sirius.

The blonde girl, Alice, was Sorted into Hufflepuff. A girl and boy were Sorted into Ravenclaw, and another boy went to Slytherin.

"Lupin, Remus," was called, and Remus, shaking, sat on the stool and waited as the hat slipped over his eyes.

_Well, well, what have we here? Oh, my._ The Hat sounded shocked. _I haven't seen one of your kind in all my years at Hogwarts. _Remus' heart sunk. He'd made it this far, hadn't he? Was it all about to be over now?

_Please don't send me away!_ he thought frantically. _I can fit in here, I _can!

The Hat seemed to chuckle. _Yes, indeed, I have no doubt that you not only can, but you will. But it will be a struggle for you, Mr. Lupin._

_I know that,_ he thought defensively. _I don't care. I _will_ become a wizard! I_ will_ proveeveryone wrong! _

_You are very brave, to face this struggle with such determination. And with your mind and kindness, I can think of no better place for you than – _

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat shouted. Remus breathed a sigh of relief. He'd made it this far. He'd passed his first test.

Two other boys were Sorted into Gryffindor that night. A short, quiet boy named Peter, and a laughing, rather arrogant boy named James.—

* * *

—Remus saw the three boys exchange high fives just after a mess of things he didn't want to think about had come splashing down onto his head. The Great Hall was full of laughter. Trying not to cry, he fled, nearly taking several wrongs turns as he tried to remember the way to his dorm.

Why pick on him? He hadn't done a thing to those boys!

He choked out the password, ignoring the Fat Lady's concerned questions. He pounded up the stairs, slammed the door to his dorm, and took a few deep breaths. Despite what the Hat had said, the whole idea had been ridiculous. Why had he dared to hope he could fit in at Hogwarts like a normal student? He yanked the sticky robes off over his head, wishing he knew some spell to clean off his hair and face.

"Here, Remus, let us help. It is Remus, right?" said a voice. He spun around. The boy with the glasses – James, that was it – was standing in the doorway, the other two boys just behind him.

"I think you've done enough," Remus told him, determined to remain impassive.

"Hey, we didn't mean for the prank to hit you," the tall boy said, coming into the room. Remus thought his name was Sirius, if he was remembering correctly. And the other boy was Peter.

"Sure," Remus said, turning away from them to rummage in his trunk for another robe.

"We didn't!" James insisted. "It was for Lucius Malfoy; he's always the first one out of the Great Hall. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time!"

"Why should we prank you, anyway?" Sirius asked.

"Why should you prank him?" Remus asked, pulling the new robe over his sticky head and grimacing.

"He's a Slytherin," Sirius said, as if it was obvious.

Remus glared at him. "From what I've heard, so's the rest of your family. And you could easily have landed there yourself!"

Sirius' eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'll have you know –" he started, but Remus cut him off.

"Forget it; I don't care. I'm just going to finish cleaning up."

"Let me help." James pointed his wand at Remus and muttered something. The gunk disappeared from his face and hair. "Look, we're not going to put up with people pranking us and giving us a hard time just because we're first years."

Remus crossed his arms. "And that's a reason to prank people just because they're Slytherins?"

"No, of course not," Peter said quietly, speaking for the first time. "But Lucius Malfoy cursed Lily Evans and called her a Mudblood on the train yesterday, just because she's Muggle born. We want him and all the other Slytherins to know that they can't insult students like that, and we'll be the ones to help anyone they do treat that way, first years or no."

Remus considered that for a moment. So that's what had happened. Well, he admired Lily's spirit, certainly. As for James and the others, maybe they weren't so bad. Arrogant, perhaps, but noble nonetheless. He supposed he could give them a chance. "Are you serious pranksters?" he asked, arms crossed. "Or are you the kind who blow it all the time like you did this morning? You know, you're not going to get very far if your pranks keep going off on the wrong people, just because you haven't enough sense to appoint a lookout and establish a signal. Otherwise, you might as well go back to fake spiders in the ice cubes or the squirting chewing gum package. Kid stuff."

James and Sirius just stared. But Peter smiled. "We stopped doing those when we were seven. We've been pranking people since I met these two six years ago, and this is our first prank that's ever gone askew."

For a moment, the room was silent. Then Remus did something no one expected. He grinned. "To tell you the truth, I'm upset with myself because I didn't see it coming. It was a wonderful prank; I just wish I'd been on the other end of it."

"Wait." Sirius found his voice. "You prank, too?"

"Since I was five. When you live out in the country, apart from anyone, with no siblings, you turn to playing tricks on your parents or go mad." He shrugged. "I chose the tricks." The room erupted into laughter.—

* * *

—"Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall shouted for the third time in the past ten minutes. "I don't care how anxious you are to see the Quidditch tryout results, I assure you, for the ninth time this hour that they will not have changed by the time this class is over. If I have to remind you once more, you will be in detention! Now, get back to work!"

"I've already Transfigured my pincushion, Professor!" James whined.

"Then Transfigure it back or help another student or find something productive to do that will not distract the rest of the students nor myself!" James banged his head on the desk repeatedly. He packed his things in his bag, willing time to pass quickly. An excruciating two minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, class was dismissed, and James was, to no one's surprise, out the door first.

He flew down the corridors as fast as he could. His second year at Hogwarts had just started, and he'd finally been able to try out for the open position of Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He didn't think there had been too much serious competition, but he'd made a few mistakes, and that fourth year Brownings had looked pretty good, too.

He gasped out the password and stumbled inside, dashing over to the bulletin board.

"Quidditch results . . . Quidditch results . . . thanks for trying, blah, blah, blah . . . Chasers, don't care, Beater, still don't care . . . Seeker – James PotterYES!" He punched the air with great enthusiasm. He was the Seeker! He'd really made it! After having to wait a full year, he'd made it! He could hardly wait to start!

"Hmmm," Sirius said upon the arrival of the other three boys, who hadn't even bothered trying to catch up. "I think Jamsie's had some sort of triumph, boys. What say you? What could it possibly be?"

"Maybe Lily Evans paid him some attention in the halls?" Peter asked, teasing James about his year-long crush on the fiery red-head who paid him no attention at all.

"Maybe Snape's been sent to Durmstrang?" was Remus' suggestion.

"Maybe he made the Quidditch team," Peter supposed. The three boys looked at each other.

"Naw!" they said together. James glared.

"First off," he started, coming over to them, "_don't_ call me Jamsie. Second, I'll have you know that Lily Evans told me to watch where I was going when I bumped into her in the hall just now."

"Oh, now that's progress," Peter said seriously. James shot him a look that only succeeded in making Peter laugh.

"And thirdly, I beat out Brownings for the Seeker position that was rightfully mine a year ago."

"Good job, James," Remus said, clapping him on the back. Just then the portrait hole opened and Lily Evans came in with her two friends, Jen and Chrissy.

"Hey, Lily," James said, striding over to her with a swagger. "Guess who Gryffindor's new Seeker is?"

"Couldn't possibly be you, could it?" she asked sarcastically.

"As a matter of fact, it is. So, you'll be rooting for me, naturally." She frowned at him.

"I'll be rooting for Gryffindor," she said, emphasizing the House name. She turned and headed for her dorm.

"Aren't you gonna wish me luck?" he demanded, following her as far as he could. James had found out last year, with Sirius, that boys couldn't enter the girls' dorms. She turned back to him.

"Why should I?" she asked coolly. "You seem extremely sure of yourself. Why should you need luck?" She continued up the staircase, her two friends following her.

"She's impressed," James told his friends.

"James, James, James." Remus shook his head sadly. "You just don't get it, do you?"—

* * *

—Remus was exhausted. He always was after a full moon. He'd been released from the Hospital Wing by Madam Pomfrey and sent back to his dorm to sleep. Everyone else would be in class, and he wanted nothing more than to collapse on his bed. But under the exhaustion, he was also worried. Peter, James, and Sirius were getting suspicious, and he didn't know how much longer they'd be convinced with his sick mother story. After two years of use, it was wearing thin.

Oh, how he wished he could tell them! But they'd desert him in a moment if they knew. The wizarding world did not accept werewolves. They couldn't separate the twelve nights of the full moon from the other 353 days of the year.

He stumbled into the Common Room, blind to everything except the stairway ahead of him. Climbing the stairs took all the energy he could muster, and the leg he'd scratched up last night, though healed, screamed in protest. He pushed open the door to his dorm and collapsed onto his four-poster with a sigh.

"Welcome back, Remus," said a voice as the door shut.

"Colloportus," said another voice.

"Silencio," said a third. Remus sat straight up, looking around wildly. James, Sirius, and Peter came to sit on his bed with him.

"How's your mother?" James asked with concern, but there was an underlying tone Remus couldn't identify in his current state.

"Oh, uh . . better. She's . . doing better."

"It's a shame she's sick so often," Sirius stated. "It's good of you to go see her."

"But doesn't she mind that her son is missing so much school every month?" Peter questioned. Remus swallowed.

"Well, she-she knows I'm a – good student, so . . ." His voice trailed off feebly.

"Remus," James said firmly. "Why are you lying to us?" There it was. His chance.

"I-I'm not," he protested, but his tone lacked conviction.

"You are," Peter said.

"You've always been a rotten liar, Rem," Sirius said.

"What - what are you doing out of class?" Remus asked, trying to change the subject. It didn't work.

"Today is Saturday." James voice was soft and unreadable. "The full moon was on a Friday this month." Remus closed his eyes. It was over.

Painfully, each word costing him, he asked, "When did you find out?"

"It wasn't so much finding out as figuring out," Sirius said.

"We put everything together last night," Peter told him.

"Why, Remus?" James asked harshly. "Why lie? You must have known it wouldn't work. Your mother can't be sick every month for seven years without people figuring it out!" Remus nodded. The anger and pain of last night boiled up inside him, giving him a sudden burst of wild energy.

"I know." He darted forward, off his bed, and knelt by his trunk. Opening it, he began to throw his things into it recklessly. "You're right; it was foolish. I should have known it wouldn't work. You don't have to worry. I'm packing. I'm leaving. I won't bother you anymore." His speech became frantic, his voice hinging on hysterical.

"What are you talking about?" James asked, watching him, a little afraid at his uncharacteristic outburst.

"No one wants to share their school with a werewolf!" he shouted, shaking violently. He dropped the book he was holding and it clattered noisily to the floor. The tears came and he couldn't stop them. "No one – wants to associate with – a – _monster_!" he choked out viciously between sobs. He drew his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. He should have known. It was hopeless. He was surprised it had lasted for two years, and they were two years he'd never forget. He'd been foolish to hope; blindly optimistic to dream for one second –

Three pairs of arms encircled him. "_Don't!_" he cried viciously, throwing them off with a last burst of anguished energy. But they would not be deterred. The energy his anger had given him was spent, and his exhaustion was back. He allowed them to support him, because he didn't know how much longer he could support himself.

"You are _not_ a monster," someone said from over his head. Remus raised his head, slowly. It couldn't be – they weren't –

"Do you really think so little of us, Remus?" Sirius asked him. "We're your friends, aren't we?"

"My parents had to move to an estate in the countryside after it happened," he started haltingly. "For fear of what might happen if it got out. I never – dared – to dream I'd get a chance to live a normal life. But my mother never lost hope. She wrote to Dumbledore; they worked it out. But now – "

"Now you have three friends who know, and who are going to help you," Peter said.

"W-what?"

"We're going to help you," James repeated. "We decided last night. I read some extra stuff for my transfiguration essay about Animagi. I read about how people can learn to become one." Remus gasped.

"That's right, Remus. We're going to do it. We're going to learn to become Animagi," Sirius said.

"And in the meantime, we'll come up with some better stories for you," Peter said. "Because you really are a rotten liar."

"But that's really dangerous!" Remus protested. "Animagus transformations can go horribly wrong if not done properly!"

"Then it's a good thing we're going to do it properly, isn't it?" Peter asked.

"Look, I don't mean to sound rude, but you're not that great at Transfiguration, Peter."

"No. I'm not. But James and Sirius are the cleverest wizards in second year and they'll help me."

"We'll do it." James was determined. "If it takes all our years at Hogwarts, we'll do it! And now, you should get some sleep, Remus. You look exhausted."

And in that moment, Remus dared to hope.—

* * *

—Remus, Sirius, and Peter were on their feet, screaming at the top of their lungs along with all the other Gryffindors as James plunged toward the ground, the Ravenclaw Seeker on his heels. His face was a mask of fierce determination, and he tuned everything else out of his mind as he flew ever closer to the small golden ball, not even flinching when a Bludger missed him by inches. The ground was coming up fast, but James wasn't worried. He lay a little closer to his broom handle, putting on an extra burst of speed. But it wasn't going to be enough, he was too close to the ground —

And then – just inches from the ground, his arm stretched as far out in front of him as possible, his fingers closed around the Snitch and he pulled his broom up sharp and fast to keep from colliding with the pitch. The entire stadium was silent for a fraction of a second –

– then exploded in sound.

"Gryffindor wins! Potter has captured the Snitch! Gryffindor wins, 210 to 170!" All the Gryffindors were on their feet, cheering with all their might! James flew higher and higher in laps around the stadium, Snitch held high, his face shining with happiness.

Remus jumped up and down with excitement, looking around at all his fellows doing the same.

Except one. Lily Evans was sitting three rows behind him. She was bent over some parchment, scribbling furiously. As Remus watched, she glanced up at James before turning her attention to her paper once more.

_Unbelievable!_ Remus thought. He nudged Sirius.

"Sirius!" he shouted over the still screaming crowd. "Sirius!" When he finally got Sirius' attention, he jerked a thumb back at Lily. "Look at Evans!" Sirius turned, as did Peter.

"Disgusting!" Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "Can't even come to a Quidditch game without bringing her homework!"

Shaking their heads, the three of them turned back to James, who flew as if it was the best day of his life. —

* * *

—"And it was right there in front of me and I knew if I let my attention waver for one minute, I'd lose it! And with Ravenclaw so far ahead, I couldn't let myself lose it, so I just kept reaching and reaching and at the last moment —" Someone sighed, cutting James off from his fifth retelling of his winning catch.

The four boys turned to see Lily Evans standing behind them.

"Ah, Lily, come to hear my–"

"I have heard your story no less than five times since the game was over, Potter," she said. "And I was at the game, you know."

"Oh, so you saw me win the match?" he asked smugly. She glared.

"I realize that I was only introduced to the sport of Quidditch a year and a half ago, but somehow I was under the impression that it was a team sport. I was certainly not aware that _one person_ could win a game _by himself_."

"Yes, well, now you know."

"You are disgusting!" she shouted. "For goodness sake, it was one Quidditch match! You are so full of yourself!"

"With reason," Sirius put in. Lily glared at him.

"Is there something you want, Lily?" Remus asked, trying to head off an argument.

"Yes. I would appreciate it if you would move your conversation elsewhere as your chatter is very distracting to those of us who are trying to work."

"Oh, lighten up!" Sirius said. "You're the only one who's trying to work, and it's our Common Room, too, and we'll chatter wherever we darn well please!" Lily glared at him again, lips pursed.

"Fine," she said finally, in a tone the made it clear she was trying to keep her temper. "I shall go work in the library, then, where I will be guaranteed some peace and quiet!" Tossing her red hair over her shoulder, she stalked out of the portrait hole, book and parchment in hand.

"She really needs to relax," Sirius said, grabbing a chocolate frogs from the pile of sweets in the middle of the rug. "It's Friday night, for goodness sake! Here's a second year who can't even go to a Quidditch match without books in tow!"

"What?" James asked, confused. Sirius stopped midchew, apparently suddenly aware that he'd said something he probably shouldn't have. Remus decided to break it to him gently.

"She was doing her homework during the match," he said softly.

James' face fell. "But . . . she saw my catch . . . right?"

"Don't think so, James," Peter said regretfully. —

* * *

—James grew over the summer. Thirteen years old, he no longer looked like a kid whose limbs were too long for his body. He was slim, but nicely so, and Quidditch had toned his muscles. Not that the Marauders, as they were now being called, noticed, but many others did. Mainly, the female population of Hogwarts.

The Marauders walked down one of the corridors, chattering excitedly about their latest prank on 'Snivellus' Snape, their rival Slytherin since first year. They'd wasted no time to get started their third year at Hogwarts.

Classes over for the week, they decided to head for the beech tree by the lake, to enjoy the September sunshine.

"I mean, did you see his face?" James asked the other boys, laughing. "It was priceless! He was so–" Someone behind them giggled. Puzzled, James looked over his shoulder. A group of Hufflepuff girls about his age was standing behind them in the corridor.

"Hi, James," one said, waving and blushing. He exchanged bewildered looks with the Marauders.

"Um. . ." he swallowed. "Hello." The girls dissolved into giggles again, and James made a hasty retreat.

It didn't stop. His success on the Quidditch field had earned him a fan club. Everywhere he went, he had girls following him, slipping him notes, asking him for dates. The marriage proposals and semi-stalking made him a bit uncomfortable, but he had to admit he kind of liked having people hang on his every movement. Sure, he couldn't carry on a normal conversation with any of them, but all he had to do was smile in their direction and they'd go crazy.

All, that was, except one. Lily Evans, the one girl he wanted to pay attention to him, seemed oblivious to his charm. In fact, she seemed disgusted by it.

The first Hogsmeade weekend was announced for the end of October, and James was determined to go with Lily. He'd turned down scores of girls that he barely knew just so he could go with her. All he had to do was ask her. Then she'd see that he really was a great guy and she'd fall for him just like all the others.

One night in the Common Room, his opportunity came. She was sitting alone in a corner, absorbed in one of her books. Getting up, he ran a hand through his hair and swaggered over to her.

"You, Lily, have got to be the luckiest girl in Hogwarts." She glanced up at him, one eyebrow raised. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

"Oh, really? And, to what do I owe this newfound luck?"

He smirked. "Out of all the girls in Hogwarts, I have picked you to accompany me to Hogsmeade next weekend." He expected her to be grateful. After all, anyone else would have been. But Lily was far from grateful.

"What makes you think I'd want to be seen with you in Hogsmeade? Or anywhere else, for that matter?" Now it was James who was in disbelief.

"Lily, any other girl would die for this chance," he informed her. This was the wrong choice of words. She stood up very abruptly and leaned over the table.

"Then go ask one of them." James thought she was being highly unreasonable.

"Now, Lily –"

"Potter, get this straight. While you and every other female are apparently under the impression that you are God's gift to Hogwarts, this is an opinion I do not share. And a word of advice for you. I am not any other girl. When you want something from me, you _ask_. Who do you think you are that you can just _order_ me to do something and expect me to not only go along with it, but to be _grateful_? Am I supposed to get down on my knees and _thank_ you? Forget it!"

"Are you . . . saying no?" James was incredulous, not to mention his pride was stinging.

"I realize it's a hard concept for you to grasp," she said coldly, her emerald eyes frosted over.

"You can't do that!"

"I just did," she responded, glaring at him, disgusted. Then she picked up her books and left the Common Room, James staring after her, trying to figure out what had just happened.—

* * *

—"What do you have there, Peter?" Sirius asked. The four boys were on the train to Hogwarts to begin their fourth year.

Peter held up an oddly shaped piece of smoky glass, about the size of his palm. "This summer my parents and I took a vacation to the Caribbean. While we were there, this storm came up really quickly. We watched it over the water from our cabin. Then, suddenly, well, it was terrifying!"

"What?" Remus asked, eager to hear more.

"Lightning! It struck the beach not twenty meters away. It was the loudest sound I've ever heard in my life! Like an explosion or something! The whole house lit up with this fiery red light, and you could just feel the power of it in the air!"

"Did your hair stand on end?" asked James, who had heard such things.

"Yeah, it did! Well, after the storm was over, I went down to see the beach where it had struck. It was still smoking! But it was really wicked! The lightning had fused the sand into this glass. There was one really big piece of it, and then there were these smaller ones. So I picked one up to carry with me."

"Wicked."—

* * *

—"Okay, spill. Which of you three got it?"

The four fifteen-year-old's were sitting eating ice cream in front of Fortescue's ice ream parlor. Their fifth year at Hogwarts started in one week. In their four years at school, they'd created quite a name for themselves and were held in awe by the rest of the school. James was easily the top student of their year, except for Charms. He'd landed himself in detention many times, though, not that he really cared. He was still Seeker of the Quidditch team, but his situation with Lily Evans had, if anything, gotten steadily worse. During school, he asked her out at least once a week. She always turned him down. They loathed each other; Lily for reasons James didn't understand, and James for not understanding why she didn't fawn over him. Although, it did seem as if wherever James was, Lily wasn't far behind. Of course, they did share most of the same classes, and it wasn't as if she paid any attention to him. She just sat in her corner, writing, all the time.

Sirius had become the local heartthrob of the school and had a bigger fan club than James because he actually dated his fans. His situation at home continued to grow more serious, especially when his brother Regulus and cousin Narcissa had both been Sorted into Slytherin. His mother constantly reminded him of his failings, and Sirius was about ready to leave for good.

Remus was one of the top students through dedication and hard work. He was the only one of the four for whom Lily Evans had even a little respect, though no one was sure about Peter, since she didn't interact with him much. His problem, obviously hadn't gone away, but James, Sirius, and Peter were convinced they were close to achieving Animagi status. And they made all the excuses now for why Remus was gone every month.

Peter was the ever loyal friend, middling in all his classes, always trying his best, but never quite making the cut. It wasn't that he wasn't smart; he just wasn't good with remembering all the facts and figures. But he was always ready to listen to his friends and try to help them out. It was he who had spoken the question.

"Hm?"

"We are the only four Gryffindor fifth year boys. _I_ certainly didn't get named Prefect, so which one of you did? Someone had to. I'm guessing either James or Remus–"

"Hey!" Sirius cut in. "How do you know it wasn't me?"

"Was it?" James asked, smirking.

"No, but–"

"Well, then?" Peter said. "So, who's got it?"

Remus sighed. "That'd be me. Though I don't know why."

"It's obvious," Sirius told him, spooning ice cream into his mouth. "Jamsie spends too much time in detention with me."

"Who's Prefect for the girls?" James asked. Remus nodded in the direction of James' back.

"Probably Lily." James turned, a bit too eager. Lily was walking out of next door Flourish and Blotts, talking animatedly with her friend Jen Prewitt.

"Hey, Evans!" James shouted. "Evans!" The redhead caught sight of him and rolled her eyes. She was close enough that it would have been hard to turn around, so she kept walking.

"Hello, Remus," she said politely. "How was your summer?" She pointedly ignored James, which angered him to no end.

"Fine, Lily, for the most part. And yours?"

She shrugged. "My sister was horrid, as usual, but other than that, it was fine. Did you get named Prefect?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah. Dad was really pleased. I must admit I'm looking forward to it. Well, it was nice bumping into you. I'll see you in a week."

"See you." She smiled at him and started walking away, but James wouldn't let her.

"Excuse me, Evans!" he shouted, getting up and blocking her way. She pursed her lips in an all-too-familiar manner, her politeness gone.

"Potter. What do you want?"

"Would it be so hard to go out with me once?" he asked. Remus and the other Marauders groaned.

"Yes, it would," she replied. "Good day." She turned again and walked quickly away.

"Someday you'll see!" he yelled after her. "Someday you'll marry me, Lily Evans, you hear?" She stopped in her tracks and whirled to face him, eyes sparking dangerously.

"Oh, really? I'll have you know it's illegal to force someone to marry against her will."

"Ouch," Sirius whispered, wincing.

"Always has a comeback, doesn't she?" Peter said in an undertone.

"Willingly, Evans. You will." She laughed, which was probably the most infuriating thing she could have done.

"Potter, you would have to do a lot of growing up if that day were ever to happen, something I highly doubt. Now, if you don't mind, my father is waiting for me. Good. Day."

He growled and ran a hand through his hair, glaring at her retreating back. "I don't get it," he muttered, flopping down in his seat. "Any other girl would die if I paid _half_ as much attention to them as I do to Evans. Why won't she see that?"

"I think she does, James. I think that might be part of the problem."

"I wish I _knew_ what her problem was. I mean, it's _me_, after all!" Remus sighed.—

* * *

—Remus sat under the beech tree, their beech tree. James and Sirius and Peter were who knew where, spending every free minute they had studying Animagi transformations. The full moon of November was in two weeks, eleven days, to be exact. As he sat watching the sun go down, the moon rose, seeming to laugh at him. _You can't fight me_, it seemed to say. He wished, for the millionth time in his life that he could find a cure for lycanthropy and be rid of it all.

He sighed deeply and leaned against the trunk, closing his eyes. The bushes nearby rustled, startling him. A huge black dog came lumbering across the grass toward where he sat.

"Hey, boy," Remus called softly, and the dog trotted over to him. Remus scratched behind his ears. "Whose dog are you, hm? Did you run away from someone in the village?" As he sat talking, the dog shook its head to rid itself of the hair that had fallen into its eyes, reminding Remus so strongly of Sirius that he laughed out loud.

A twig snapped in the forest nearby. Suddenly wary, Remus stood, his hand still resting lightly on the dog's head. "Who's there?" he called. Peering into the trees, he saw movement, then–

A magnificent white stag stepped from the shadows. Remus froze, hardly daring to breathe as the stunning creature moved slowly toward him, completely unafraid. It came right up to him and nudged his hand with its muzzle. Then it straightened into a pose so carelessly arrogant that Remus couldn't have mistaken it under any circumstances. He gasped.

He mouthed soundlessly for a moment, his eyes holding the hazel ones of the creature in front of him. "James?" he finally managed to whisper, awestruck. The stag bowed its head deeply. Remus' eyes darted to the dog still standing by his side. It jumped onto its hind legs and puts its paws on his shoulders.

The dog licked Remus' face once. "Sirius?" he asked, a smile starting to form. The dog barked. "But where is–" His voice was cut off as a grey rat scurried across his feet. He jumped backward and Sirius went down on all fours again, allowing the rat to climb onto his back. The rat tilted its head and looked curiously up at Remus, who was grinning now. "Peter. You . . you did it. You three actually did it," he said, stunned. They transformed smoothly and sat next to him on the grass. He felt almost like crying.

"Course we did," James said. "We promised we would."

_Take that!_ Remus thought triumphantly up at the half moon, whose smile seemed to droop for that moment.—

* * *

—"Right," James said, seething, watching Lily storm away. "Right–" There was another burst of light, and suddenly Snape was upside down again. "Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"

Remus could no longer pretend to be reading. James was furious, and he certainly looked as if he'd do what he was threatening. His wand was poised and ready. It was time to step in.

"James," Remus said, his voice harsh. He stood and crossed to him, placing one hand and James' wand arm."That's enough." He held James' gaze for a moment or two, then James snapped his arm down.

"Fine," he told Remus. He waved his wand once and Snape came crashing to the ground. "As for you," he said, addressing Snape who was now scrambling to his feet. "Go back to your dark little friends and your dark little arts." They stood glaring at each other, looking at each other with equal expressions of loathing. Then Snape turned on his heel and marched away. James watched him go, but let him retreat.

James sighed and ran a hand partway through his hair, then stopped as Lily's words echoed through his mind.

"Let's go," Peter said quietly.

"You and Padfoot go ahead," Remus said. "I want to talk to Prongs for a minute." They separated, Remus leading James down by the lake as the crowd that had been watching the events unfold dispersed.

They walked in silence for a few moments. Remus waited for James to speak first. Finally, he did.

"Why did you stop me?" he asked. Remus had been prepared for the question.

"Because, James. There are lines we don't cross." James smiled wryly.

"And I was approaching one, is that it?"

"No," Remus stated simply. When James looked at him in question, he continued. "You were already past it." James sighed and glared out over the lake.

"It's Snape."

Remus shrugged. "Still, I don't think that was all of it." James gave a dry chuckle that held no humor.

"You mean Evans." It wasn't a question.

"I do."

James put his hands in his pockets. "She's out of line," he said finally. Remus shrugged again, squinting up at the sky.

"Okay. But that doesn't mean–"

"It's Snape, Moony!" James cut Remus off, but Remus wouldn't be deterred.

"If it stops being harmless, then it stops being worth it, and you know that. We don't hurt people, James. Not like that. Even if it is Snape." That was all he had to say, so he turned and headed back up to the castle. After a moment's hesitation, James followed.

There was silence again. James knew Remus was right, and he hated it. "We should go back inside," Remus said finally. "Transfiguration tomorrow."

"I don't need to study for that one," James said. "Moony?" They stopped walking. "Thanks."

"It's what I'm here for, Prongs." He smiled.—

* * *

—"The Marauders' Map!" James said triumphantly. Another year at Hogwarts had begun. Ever since they'd managed to become Animagi, their latest project had been the Marauders' Map, a thorough map of Hogwarts, showing not only every secret passage they had discovered and how to open it, but also every person in the castle. That had been the hardest part, bewitching the map to not be fooled by invisibility cloaks, Animagus forms, or even Polyjuice Potions. But it was late November of their sixth year, and it was done now, and labeled with their nicknames, ready to be hidden for a new generation of troublemakers to find and use.

"Time to test it one last time," Remus said, pulling out his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Black ink swirled from the tip of his wand spreading across the parchment. Another nice quality was that nothing but the password would show the map. Any other revealing spells would insult the reader. The map could be wiped clean when not in use, and their final addition today would be that any true mischief maker would know the password as soon as he touched the map. Their legacy would keep here in the castle, forever!

They laid the final spell, and with a "Mischief managed!" they wiped it clear. Ceremoniously, Remus presented it to Peter.

"All right, Wormtail. You know what to do. We'll make the diversion. It is up to you to hide it far away from prying eyes, somewhere where it may later be discovered to aid the trouble makers of the future!" Peter nodded ceremoniously, grabbed the Invisibility Cloak, and was off. By setting off a number of Stink Pellets and Dung Bombs just outside the Great Hall on either side, effectively trapping all the students eating lunch inside, as well as Filch and the other teachers, they gave Peter enough time to hide the Map. Of course, they landed in detention too, but they were used to that by now.

"Where do you think he'll hide it?" Sirius asked as they walked back to the Common Room after being told off by McGonagall.

"Dunno," James said. "But I'm glad I didn't draw the short straw on having to find a place! But I have complete confidence in Peter. He'll find a good spot."

When they got back to their dorm, Peter was waiting for them. "It is done," he said.

"Where'd you put it?" Sirius asked. Peter grinned.

"The perfect place."

"Where?"

"In the one place where only a true mischief maker will ever find it."

"_Where_?"

"Filch's 'Confiscated' drawer!" There was silence, then laughter.—

* * *

—It had forced them to grow up. Until that night, they'd been young and foolish and immature. They hadn't realized yet that they had to be responsible. That night, though, they learned.

Sirius changed the most. He developed humility that had been nonexistent before. He'd been reckless because he'd been angry. A cruel letter from his mother and a provocation from Snape was all he had needed to push him over the line. No one regretted that angry decision more than he, and it showed. Sirius grew up.

Remus changed, as well. He had more courage now to stand up to his friends. Before, he'd been afraid that it wasn't his place, but now, when they were out of line, he told them so. Remus hadn't needed much in the way of growing up, but now that someone besides his friends knew his secret, he gained all he needed. Snape had been sworn to secrecy, but that didn't stop him from looking triumphant whenever he caught Remus' eye. In time, Remus learned to hold his head high and look him right back. Remus grew up.

Peter changed, too. His voice carried more weight, for the other three saw an inner strength they hadn't noticed before. It wasn't extraordinarily strong, but it was stronger than anything Peter had shown before. Peter seemed more confidant, too, as if he'd come to terms with something inside himself. He still held fears, but he was learning to overcome them. Peter grew up.

Then there was James. The realization of what had almost happened ended his childish recklessness. He accepted the responsibility he had ignored up until then. James changed. He took school and such much more seriously. The threat of a dark wizard was growing, James knew, and that made life more serious, less of a game. James grew up.

"Will you go out with me?" It was a question that was years old. It had at first been a game, then a challenge, but now it was more. He wanted her to say yes. But she wouldn't.

"No," she said wearily, sounding exhausted. "Please, Potter, the answer is no. It's not going to change. Stop asking." She didn't even look up from her homework as she said it. She just kept writing. But this time, because he had grown up a little, he wasn't going to just leave, as he always had before.

"Why?" he whispered. She looked up at him, startled by the question. They were alone in the Common Room. Sirius was in detention, Peter was in the library, and Remus was in the dorm room. James didn't know where Lily's friends were.

"Why?" she repeated.

"Yes, Lily. I want to know why. I want to know why you always turn me down. I want to know why the answer won't change." She looked at him. He was serious.

"The truth?" she asked.

"Yes."

"All right." She stood and walked around the table to stand in front of him, arms crossed. She nodded her head resolutely, as if steeling herself for an unpleasant task. "The truth, Potter. You are the embodiment of everything I despise. Going out with you would mean going against all my principles, against everything I stand for. That's why."

She turned to go back to her work, but he stopped her again. "The embodiment of everything you despise?" He said it quietly, but couldn't mask the indignation in his voice. "Just what do you mean?"

She turned regretful eyes back to his face. "Just what I said, Potter. You possess all the qualities I can't stand. You are prideful, arrogant, vain, and a show-off. You are lazy and irresponsible. You think of yourself and what you want before anything else. You're selfish." She stopped and looked at him. He was angry, but he was holding onto his silence. She continued. "You walk around Hogwarts with the attitude that you are the best that ever could be, that everyone takes a spot behind you. You have an exaggerated idea of your own importance and you can't take criticism. You're too proud and conceited to admit when you're wrong. You sweep through life as if it's a game you want to win, taking whatever benefits you, without a thought for anyone else. You don't take things seriously the way you should and you goof off all the time. You're immature and childish and reckless. You have a horrible temper."

He stared out the window, not trusting himself to look at her, biting his tongue to keep himself from yelling. She paused for a moment, then went on. "I could forgive all those things, I think. Maybe. You have . . . reason to be arrogant, I can't deny that. What everyone says is true. You're clever and intelligent, yes. You're handsome; I'd be blind to say you weren't. You're talented; you succeed in everything you do. You're funny; most of your pranks make me laugh, I admit it." He let out a breath and looked her way, preparing himself for the 'but' he knew was coming. "I can't deny any of those things. But there's something else I can't deny. And it's the worst. And it's the one I can't forgive." She hesitated. "You're a bully, James."

His head snapped up, anger flaring once more. "What?" he gasped, shocked. "I–"

"You are! You hex people because you can; you seek out fights with those who are younger and weaker than you because you know you can win! And you know it will look good when you do. But it doesn't, James. Not to me. I cannot forgive someone who finds pleasure in hurting others! I can't! And agreeing to go out with you would be saying that those things are okay, and they're not. The truth is . . . in a lot of ways . . . you're worse than the Slytherins you claim to be teaching a lesson to." That was the worst blow yet.

"That's not true!" he yelled. "I don't do half the–"

"At least they're honest about what they are. At least they don't hide it and pretend to be something else. At least they are what they are through and through. You're supposed to be better than that." He looked thoroughly stung, standing there. She almost felt sorry for him. But she wasn't done yet, and there was one more thing she had to say, if she was going to be honest, thoroughly honest. "Besides these things, there's something else. If all the others were to disappear, this one would still force me to say no. You don't really want to go out with me because you want to go out with me. You want to so you can say that you did. So you can achieve another victory. I'm no more than a challenge to you, a prize you want to win. You don't really care about me. I know that. That's why I say no. And I'm going to keep saying no. Because . . . I know eventually . . . you're only going to hurt me." He looked away, his face covered in pain he didn't want her to see. She sighed. You asked for the truth and I told it. I'm sorry if what I said hurt you. But you're sixteen years old, James. In a year and a half, you'll be out of school, and life won't be a game anymore. It's time you heard these things. You need to hear them."

She crossed around the table and sat down again. Picking up her quill, she turned back to her work. After a moment, when he was still standing there, she said, not looking at him, "My answer changes when you do, and not a moment before, if then. You say these things aren't true, well . . . I need you to prove that. I hope my judgment about you is wrong, but unfortunately, I don't think it is. I would like nothing more than to be proven wrong someday. But that's not up to me."

He left.—

* * *

—He left the Common Room as calmly as he could, heading for his dorm. When he was sufficiently out of Lily's sight, he kicked the wall as hard as he could, trying to relieve some of his frustration. But he succeeded only in hurting his toes.

How dare she say those things! Didn't she know anything? Well, it was obvious she didn't know the first thing about James!

But as mad as he was and as much as he wanted to dismiss her words as nonsense, there was a tiny, unbiased part of him that knew she had spoken the truth. It was one of the first conversations they'd had in which they hadn't really shouted at each other. She'd sounded almost . . . regretful.

But her words _hurt_! They hurt far more than her usual run of insults. Because she'd obviously meant these. The more his anger melted out of him, the more his head filled with despair. Did she actually think that? Did she actually think he was immature and selfish and . . . a bully? More importantly, was he? He'd certainly never thought so before, but . . . looking back now, after the events of the last month, he was able to admit – forced to, really – that his behavior in the past was far from praiseworthy.

He _knew_ he had changed. But how did he show her that?

And, before he could, it seemed he had to find out how much of what she'd said was true. And that meant talking to one person. Remus.

"Remus?" he asked softly, pushing open to door to their dorm. Remus was crouched over a piece of parchment on the desk. He looked up as James entered and quietly closed the door behind him.

"What is it, James?" Remus had never seen James like this. He looked utterly crestfallen and he walked without the arrogant swagger he usually had. Remus hated to say it, but James looked like a defeated man.

James sat very carefully on his bed, steeling himself for what was to come. He knew he had to take whatever Remus told him in stride. "Am I arrogant?"

Remus' brow furrowed in a frown. "What?"

"Am I? Be honest. You're a good judge of character, Remus. I know you'll tell me the truth. Am I arrogant?"

Remus bit his lip. He could tell already; this wasn't going to be an easy conversation. "Yeah, James. You are. Not without reason–"

"No," James sighed. "Don't give me any justifications. So I'm arrogant. And . . . and childish and immature? Reckless?"

Remus shook his head. "Not anymore," he answered. "You . . . you used to be. Before. We all were."

"You weren't." Remus started to protest, but James cut him off with an angry wave of his hand. "You weren't, Remus, and you know it. Last year? With Snape? You stopped me."

"I waited too long, though. I should have stepped in earlier, but I admit, I almost enjoyed it. That wasn't immature?" James smiled without humor. He stood up suddenly and started pacing, restlessly.

"And . . . am I . . . a bully? Worse than the Slytherins?" Remus stood up, too, laying a hand on James' shoulder.

"James, what's wrong? Why are you asking –"

"Don't avoid my questions, Remus. Am I a bully? Give it to me straight. Am I?" Remus looked straight into James' eyes, not wanting to answer. "Remus!"

"You . . . you _can_ be," he said slowly. "Not always, but . . . but sometimes." James sat down as abruptly as he had stood up. He nodded, more to himself than anyone else, and began to mutter.

"Of course. Of course! She _does _think that, because it's all true. Of course it is; how could it not be? I am arrogant and childish and immature and selfish–"

"No." Remus spoke softly and James jumped a little because he had forgotten that James was in the room.

"What –"

"Don't ever say that, James. You have your faults, true enough, but you _are not_ selfish. I don't know what's happened to make you think so, but you could never be selfish." When James snorted and looked away, Remus knelt next to the bed. "Look at me, James." He did. "When I came to Hogwarts, I woke up every day expecting to hear that it was my last, that someone had found out and I had to leave. And then you did. And I was so afraid you'd all turn against me. Because of what I am. But you didn't. In fact, you did the opposite. You protected me. You helped me. You spent so much time and energy doing those things . . . if that isn't self_less_, I don't know what is. And last month, you saved my neck, right along with Sirius'. Whatever else you've been told, you are my best friend, even if you are arrogant sometimes." James smiled weakly.

"Thanks, Moony."

"Don't worry about it. And now, I have to go talk to someone." And Remus stood up and left, to go and find Lily Evans. —

* * *

—She'd watched him leave with mixed feelings. He was taking what she'd told him in an . . . almost mature fashion. She'd expected him to yell and rage, but he hadn't. Well, not really. She felt bad. He'd obviously been upset. But he had wanted the truth. She'd been brutally honest. She meant everything. So why did she feel like crying?

For a moment, it had been almost as if he had changed. Just by asking. But that wasn't enough proof. But she'd gotten a glimpse of what he might be like if he'd stop acting like the Lord of Everything and really started to care about someone other than himself. And that was a person she'd be interested in getting to know. But only if James brought him out in the open.

She sighed and turned back to her work. But before she'd been able to write more than a few more words on the Euphoria Potion Essay she was working on for Professor Slughorn, another person announced himself by asking her a question.

"What on earth did you say to him, Lily Evans?" She looked up to see Remus standing beside her.

She sighed. "Why? Has he been raging about me to you?"

"No. In fact, he didn't even say it was about you. I just knew."

She looked puzzled. "He didn't? What did he –"

"Can I sit down, Lily?"

"Yeah," she said, moving a stack of spell books and spare parchment to make room for him. "How did you know it was me?" Remus laughed.

"Lily, you are the only person who can get him worked into a frenzy. Snape can't even do that. So what did you say to him?" Lily turned on the bench to look at him, crossing her arms. She was silent for a moment.

"Let me ask you this – what did he say to you?" she finally said. Remus shrugged.

"Not much. But if I tell you, will it change how you answer me?"

She looked at him, a bit taken aback. "I – no."

Remus sighed and nodded. "Okay, then," he said. "He asked me if he was arrogant."

"He – he what?" She couldn't believe it.

"He asked me if he was arrogant. Then he asked if he was immature, childish, reckless, a bully, and selfish."

"Why . . . why would he do that?"

"Ask me?" Remus shrugged. "I don't know. He said he trusted my judgement." Lily looked away for a moment, thinking. Then her eyes flickered back to him.

"And . . . what did you say?"

"That he is arrogant, he used to be immature and childish and reckless, that he can, at times be a bully, and that he is not selfish. What did you tell him?"

Lily looked at her hands. "He asked me to go out with him, again. And I said no, again. He then . . . he asked me why. So . . . I told him." She looked back to Remus. "I told him the truth, Remus, about why I wouldn't go out with him. I meant everything I said."

"I have no doubt that you did," Remus said, "but . . . there's things about James you don't know, Lily. He's not . . ." Remus stopped, trying to think of the best way to word this. "He's hardly aware of most of it. Being arrogant. He can't help it."

Lily snorted. "Of course he can, Remus!"

"No, Lily. He can't. It's . . . subconscious." Lily looked skeptical. Remus sighed. "Suppose that, from the day you were born, everyone told you that you were a duck."

"What?"

"If everyone, your whole life, told you that you were a duck, you'd have no reason to believe you were anything but a duck. You would think that you were."

"I suppose . . ." she answered slowly. "But what does that –"

"So then, if, after twelve years of believing yourself a duck, someone came along and said, 'Lily, you're not a duck, you're a girl,' how would you react?"

Trying not to dwell on the strangeness of the conversation, Lily answered, "I suppose . . . I'd think they were crazy."

"Exactly."

"But what does this have to do with James, Remus?"

"James is an only child born to only children. His parents and grandparents lavish attention on him because there isn't anyone else for them to lavish attention on. As a child, anything James wanted, he got, for the most part. His parents and grandparents treated him as if he was magnificent because he was their pride and joy. Then he comes to school and he's unknown for _maybe_ 10 hours. Then suddenly, he's being called one of the greatest pranksters Hogwarts has ever seen. He's top of all his classes; he's charming and smart, and everyone thinks he's great. Then he becomes, at twelve, one of the youngest and best Seekers the Gryffindor Quidditch team has ever had, so he's a house hero for that on top of everything else. Everyone is in . . .awe of him, almost."

"And? What's the point of all this, Remus?"

"Don't you see?" There was an almost desperate quality in Remus' voice. "He acts as if he's that much better, that much more special than everyone around him because he's always been treated as if he were! And then there's you."

"I'm the one who told him he wasn't a duck," Lily said, slowly coming around to Remus' point.

"Yeah. You told him he wasn't a duck. And he didn't know what to make of you. You were the one person who wasn't impressed by him, except the Slytherins, who he's been taught his whole life don't matter. He didn't know what to do with you, so he just tried harder to impress you because that's all he knew." Lily nodded slowly.

"I think I understand. But that's not all that bothers me."

"I know. But he isn't childish and reckless anymore. Something happened, and I can't tell you what it is, but we've grown up. We were forced to."

Lily nodded, thinking. She'd noticed the change. "Yes," she said. "I can see that."

"As for the rest, well, yes he can be a bully, and that's a real problem. It's his major weakness, his worst fault. I'm not trying to defend him, or pretend that it isn't wrong, but he hates the Dark Arts and the people who practice them. And since he can't be out there fighting Voldemort, he takes it out on the people he's been taught become Voldemort's supporters. He hates feeling helpless, and no, it's not right, but he's only sixteen. He's still learning. Besides," he added, looking her in the eye, "I never tried to stop him, and you haven't counted that against me."

"You're right; I never did. But it has to change, Remus." Remus got up, sighing and crossed the room. Lily followed. "It has to. Please understand, Remus. This is important to me because I know what it's like to be bullied." Remus turned and looked at her. She forced herself to go on. "My sister used to be my best friend, but then I came here, and I started studying _this_, and things changed. Suddenly, she hated me. She never spoke to me except to criticize, she accused me of . . . awful things. And when my father died this past summer . . ." She looked away, tears in her eyes. "The things she said _hurt_. She knew it. She meant them to hurt. I can't abide a bully. Any kind of bully."

Remus stood there, unsure of what to say. He hadn't known any of that, but of course that was why she seemed to hate James, if she saw her sister in the things he did. "That's perfectly fair, Lily," he finally said. "What James does is wrong. But that's only one side of him. It's as if there are two of him – the one the school knows and the one we know. He really is a wonderful person. He's kind and generous and incredibly loyal. He's the best friend I could ask for. And far from being selfish, he's one of the most selfless people I know. You don't know what he's done for me, what he's given up. You don't see that side of him, but it's there, I promise you it is."

He was pleading with her, and she knew it. And it hurt to say what came next: "That may be true, Remus, but if he won't show that side to anyone, it might as well not exist. I'm sorry, but I can't just trust what you say. I have to see it. He has to show me."

Remus nodded, wishing she could see, but knowing why she didn't. He smiled sadly and turned to go back up to his room.

"I told him I hoped I was wrong," she called after him. He looked back over his shoulder. "For what it's worth. I told him I hoped I was wrong."

"But that you didn't think you were?" he finished. She flinched at the hardness in his voice, and felt a little ashamed because she had said that.

"That it wasn't up to me," she said quietly. "I know we all have faults, Remus. And the James you told me about tonight . . . well, I think I could really like him. I think I could be his friend. I'd really like to meet him some day, but it _isn't_ up to me. But for my part . . . I'll keep watching."

"I suppose that's really all I can ask for," Remus said quietly. "Goodnight, Lily."

"Goodnight." —

* * *

—"James Potter."

It was their seventh year at Hogwarts. The New Year had just begun, and Christmas break would end in two days. The Marauders were sitting together on a couch in the Gryffindor Common Room. Remus felt sometimes as if they hardly ever saw James anymore, what with his promotion to Head Boy. He'd hardly been able to believe it when he had gotten the letter that summer. Sirius had been convinced it was all a joke, but they'd gotten to Hogwarts and discovered it wasn't. James had been made Head Boy.

The first thing he'd done was apologize to Remus. "I don't know why it was me and not you, Moony." But Remus had stopped the flow of apologies.

"James, it's fine. I don't want it, anyway. It . . . suits you." And he had meant it.

The Marauders hadn't been the only ones to be surprised. Lily Evans, who had been made Head Girl, could hardly believe what Dumbledore had done to her. Determined to make the best of it, and keeping in mind the conversation she'd had with Remus, she tried to get along with James. But he seemed incapable of changing how he acted around her. Remus despaired of the two of them ever figuring things out. He just wanted them to be friends.

But it was that Head Girl that was crossing the Common Room to them now, piece of paper clutched in her hand.

"Yes, Evans?" James answered.

"Did you mean this?" she asked, holding up the piece of paper. Remus thought he recognized James' scrawl on the paper.

"Mean . . . what, Evans?" Was it Remus' imagination, or had he heard the slightest hint of panic in James' response? He'd thought James had looked distracted the past few days; maybe this would have some answers.

"Mean what you said in this note, James. The one that was slipped under my door this morning. Did you mean what you said?"

"Now, what did I say? You'll have to be a little more specific." Now Remus was sure of it. This wasn't James' normal way of having fun with Evans; he was stalling for time.

Lily glared at him. "All of it, James, but especially this bit: 'You dared me to prove that I cared about something besides myself. Well, I do. There is something – someone – that I care about more than myself. You.'Did you mean that?"

_Finally!_ Remus thought. _Maybe now they'll be able to get past this silly ritual they're both obsessing over._

James swallowed visibly. "I can't think why I would even write something like that, Evans, let alone mean it. You must have me confused with someone else." Before Remus could warn James that this probably wasn't the best approach, Lily had stepped forward, lips white with fury, and slapped James hard across the cheek. Remus closed his eyes and sighed. _Or . . . not._

"You are a coward and a hypocrite," she said, her voice shaking. "You tricked me, James. You tricked me into thinking that maybe things could be different, that maybe you were starting to grow up. But I guess I was wrong." She left then, and Remus could almost hear the words hanging in the air.

_So did you, Remus.—_

* * *

—"I just want to know what's going on, Remus!"

"Sirius, no. Don't you understand? Whatever's going on, James is trying to fix it. I want him to fix it. I want this thing between him and Lily to stop. It's gone on for six and a half years; isn't that enough?"

It was a few days later, term had started, and the seventh years were, once again, weighed down with homework. James had promised to join Remus, Sirius, and Peter as soon as he could, but while they were waiting, the conversation took a turn that had become all too familiar in the past few days. Sirius and Peter wanted to know what was going on. They were itching to get James to spill the details about Sunday morning, and, to be honest, so was Remus. But he was determined not to get in the way of whatever was happening. He just had a feeling that if Sirius and Peter and he got started, James would back down from changing so Lily could see. That's what Remus kept telling himself, but there was more to it than that. He also felt partly responsible for Sunday morning. He had promised Lily that James had a wonderful personality, but in the year since that conversation, he wasn't sure Lily had ever seen it.

"But—"

"_No._"

"Hey," James said, plopping down on the carpet beside them.

"Hey, James," Remus said, opening his transfiguration book.

"James–" Sirius started. Remus shot him a look packed with warning. "Have you finished your Potions essay yet?" he finished, dejected.

"Mostly. I need another two inches still."

The talk turned to homework for a few minutes. After listening carefully to make sure Sirius and Peter weren't going to breech the subject, Remus focused on his reading. He heard snatches of the rest of the conversation, then, "Let's lay off Snape for a while, okay, guys?"

Remus looked up very suddenly from his book. "What?"

"What?"

"What?" Sirius and Peter echoed him.

"Well, Snape's probably had a rough Christmas. I just think we should leave him alone for a while. And while we're at it, let's stop hexing the Slytherins without a good reason."

The other Marauders seemed to be at a loss for words. "But," Sirius started, sounding totally bewildered, "We have a good reason. They're Slytherins."

James took a deep breath. "That's not good enough, Padfoot. Not really. Besides, I don't know about you, but I've got enough homework to keep me busy until late summer, at least. Plus there's studying and all my Head duties. If you want to plan pranks on the Slytherins without any reason but to cause trouble, you'll have to do it without me. But, if they really deserve it, I'll be the first to jump in and help," he promised.

So. Something had happened after all. James glanced toward Lily, and Remus smiled. _Maybe now . . . _—

* * *

—That Saturday, Lily approached James in the Common Room and, without saying anything, handed him an envelope marked _James Potter, Confidential. _She smiled at James, glanced fleetingly at Remus, and left. Remus smiled, too. He didn't know what had happened, but he had the feeling that things were looking up.— 


	3. A Good Judge of Character

Okay, so, yeah, it's been a year since I last updated, and nearly two since I started this particular segment in my Seeker trilogy, but I'm on a writing role now, and it is almost done, I swear! There is one more section after this chapter, and it'll come quickly, I promise.

This chapter follows Remus' memories from the start of Capturing the Seeker to the end of Prisoner of Azkaban, and I tried to not copy too much word for word from the third book, just the parts that were really important to Remus and the Marauders.

You've all been incredibly patient, and for that, I thank you. I hope you enjoy this!

AN: Redone a little, toward the end.

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, not mine, not mine. None of it. None.

---and writing in dashes continues to be flashbacks---

* * *

Remembering the Seeker 

Chapter three - A Good Judge of Character

—Sirius laughed gleefully. "And _then_ we can –" It was the morning of the Valentine weekend Hogsmeade trip, the first one that Sirius could go on. His ongoing list of plans was interrupted by James coming into the Gryffindor Common Room to meet up with the other Marauders, as planned. "Hey, James, listen to this!"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Padfoot!" Peter exclaimed. "You are driving me mad!"

"But I can't _help_ it, Wormtail! We finally get to journey into Hogsmeade once more as the Four Marauders of legend!"

"What legend would that be, Padfoot?" Remus asked, amused.

"Our legend, Moony. Ours." He looked and sounded so serious that Remus couldn't keep from laughing out loud.

"Yeah, about that," James interrupted, looking somewhat sheepish. Three heads turned to look at him, one highly accusatory.

"Prongs," Sirius almost growled. "Please tell me you didn't land yourself in detention on this, my first free Hogsmeade weekend."

"No, it's nothing like that. I'm going to Hogsmeade, I just . . . well, I'm not going with you lot." He said this last part all in a rush, and turned quickly, hoping to make an escape out the portrait hole. It didn't work.

"Come on, Prongs!" Sirius exclaimed, as he stood to block the exit. "You're going to Hogsmeade on Valentine's weekend with a _girl_?"

"Well, yeah," James said, trying to get around Sirius' body so he could leave.

"Hold on, there, Prongsie."

James sighed. "Yes, Sirius?"

"What girl is more important than the Marauders? Or, more importantly than that, even, what girl has managed to get your mind off of the beauteous Lily Evans?" James couldn't help it. He blushed. There was stunned silence from Peter and Sirius, and a muffled snort of laughter from Remus. James shot a desperate look in his direction, as if he hoped for some kind of rescue. Which, as Remus told him with a raise of an eyebrow, he was not going to get.

"Hang on." Sirius said after he got his mind around this totally foreign idea. "What did you do to that girl?"

"Hey now–" But Sirius was not to be stopped.

"Did she fall down and hit her head? Did you bewitch her? Slip her a love potion?" James sighed impatiently.

"Of course not. Now, if you don't mind–" and he lunged for the portrait hole, but Sirius caught him by the arm.

"Oh-ho, no, my friend. You are not going anywhere until you explain how this happened! Lily Evans agreed to go to Hogsmeade with you?" he practically shouted.

"Yes!" James yelled back.

"When?" he shot back, completely bewildered.

"Just after New Years'," James mumbled.

"What! You've kept this a secret for that long?" he shouted, as Remus and Peter start laughing.

"Well –"

"What made her agree in the first place?" he demanded.

"I don't know, but I'd really like not to mess this up, Padfoot, and she's waiting for me, so could you please –"

But James' hopes were not to be. Seven minutes of heavy questioning later, Remus finally made Sirius let James leave, though he had to put up with grumbling the rest of the day. And Sirius couldn't have been more surprised when, at the end of the day, Lily not only returned still with James, but kissed him on the cheek as well. —

* * *

—"So." Lily Evans looked up at the sound of his voice. Remus was standing above her, leaning against the wall beside her library table. She waited for him to finish his sentence, with a feeling that she knew what was coming. "You've started tutoring James in Charms." 

She rolled her eyes and made an attempt to deny it. "I don't know that I'd call it _tutoring_, precisely."

"Tutoring, homework help, study buddy, call it what you will, you're doing it. Yes?" He was rewarded with a hint of a smile.

"Yes. Because he asked, and I thought the request to be incredibly mature of him." Remus smiled and sat at her table.

"Does this mean James has passed whatever Lily-test you put him through?" Lily laughed a little and shook her head.

"You could say that, I suppose." She looked at him for a minute. "But you didn't come down here to ask me that, did you?" It was not quite a question. He opened his mouth to respond, visually reconsidered his answer, closed his mouth and looked away.

"James . . . told me . . . about – well – that you . . . know –" Lily took pity on him.

"Yes," she said, laying her hand over his on the table. "And it doesn't matter to me, Remus. I don't care."

"How can you not?" came his quiet voice, laced with disbelief. Lily knew his didn't disbelieve what she had said, just that it was possible that anyone could say it and mean it.

"It doesn't change who you are, Remus. Remus," she said again, when he still wouldn't look at her. He glanced up, slowly. "I know monsters far worse than you, monsters that are fully human. The person you are for most of the time is more than enough to make up for what you happen to be a few nights every year."

He glanced around nervously, probably out of habit, since they were the only two in the library. "You know," he finally said, "I never even thought about dreaming that one day, I'd have four friends who knew, and didn't care. It's not what I was raised to expect." Lily smiled at him, kindly.

"I think you'd be surprised, Remus, at how many would be more accepting than you think."

Lily never knew what it was he intended to say in response to that, because it was at that moment that Madame Pince came over and shoed them out of the library so she could close up. Remus walked her back to the Heads' dorm, though they walked in silence.

"I'm glad you and James were finally able to become friends, Lily," he said as the portrait opened. Then he started to walk away.

"Remus," she said quickly, half in the room. He turned where he stood. "Thank you." He smiled and waved a hand in dismissal.

"Goodnight, Lily."—

* * *

—Remus was sitting with Sirius and Peter one afternoon in the Gryffindor Common Room, trying to help Peter understand their latest Transfiguration assignment and to get Sirius to concentrate on his homework rather than grumbling about James and his studying sessions with Lily. 

"All right, guys. Spill." Remus looked up to see two of Lily's friends, Jen and Chrissy, standing in front of their sofa. Jen had her hands on her hips and looked dangerous, like she meant business.

"What are we spilling?" Sirius asked, also looking up.  
"What's up with Lily?" Jen demanded.  
"How should we know? She's your friend," Sirius pointed out.  
"You remember fifth year all too well, I'm sure. How Lily was a total wreck before O.W.L.'s?" The three Marauders winced and nodded. That had not been a fun time in the Gryffindor Common Room. "Well, we expected this year to be a nightmare. But N.E.W.T.'s are two weeks away, and Lily's more relaxed than she was at first-year exams. Something's up," Jen concluded.  
"You three know everything about everybody in Hogwarts," Chrissy flattered, sitting beside Sirius. She had always been the one to wheedle information out of people, rather than Jen or Lily, who simply demanded it, and expected to be satisfied. "You have to have noticed something. I've never seen Lily like this before. She's not afraid of heights anymore, either. And she's always with James. If she's not in classes or meetings with him, she's doing homework with him."  
"Yeah, we know," Sirius grumbled. "Got these two all excited about a study group, then deserts us for her!" Remus sighed. He had just gotten Sirius off of this topic.  
"Padfoot, shut up," Remus told him, finally tired of being circumspect. Then he turned to the girls. "But you've hit it right on. It's James. I have yet to figure out what exactly happened between those two, but they've stopped fighting completely and are actually friends now. I've personally never seen James so studious. But he has all his weekend homework done now by the time he goes to bed on Friday and he's going to pass Charms. With an O."  
"He's teaching her to fly," Peter said. Remus turned to him in surprise. How had he failed to notice that? He wasn't the only one. Peter looked at the four of them, then nodded. "Every Saturday night. They go down to the Quidditch pitch. I think he kidnaped her the first time on his broomstick. But he's pretty much cured her acrophobia."  
The five of them sat – or stood – in amazement for a moment. "Lily and James . . ." Chrissy said finally. "She's always gone on about what a prat he is and how much she hated him! We know! We were subjected to her rants almost every night."  
"And we had to listen to him, too. Evans this and Evans that and 'Why won't she go out with me,'" groaned Sirius. "As if we had the answer!"  
"I guess you can only work together for so long without learning to agree to disagree," Remus surmised. "It's either that or kill each other."  
"Amazing." In Remus' mind, that pretty much summed up the whole situation. But when no one was looking, he smiled. —

* * *

—Remus wasn't sure what made him look up from his book and out the window, but once he had, he was glad that something had. He jumped up, grabbed his cloak, and ran down the stairs, out to follow James around the lake. James had looked very upset when Remus saw him through the window. 

"James?" Remus asked when he was near enough to be heard without having to shout. Slowly, as if he had expected Remus to be there, James turned. What stopped Remus was not the slow movements or the look of despair on his face – a look that was twice as bad as what he had seen midway through last year – it was the tears on James' face.

"I thought I'd done enough, Moony," he said very quietly. Then he looked out over the lake again, and Remus slowly began moving toward him. "I really thought I had. I thought I'd done enough. I thought I'd changed enough. But I was wrong."

It took him only a moment to realize what James must be talking about. But then it hit him, and he wasn't sure how to respond. This was different than it had been in the past; James was in this for keeps now. "She said no?" he asked gently.

"And meant it, more than she ever used to," he whispered, still looking out over the lake. "She meant it this time, Moony. She said things can't get any better than they are now. And she believes it. And I can't –" Here he broke off, unable to go any further. Remus didn't know what to say. "Enough," James whispered, so quietly Remus almost didn't hear. And he still wasn't sure he'd heard exactly.

"What?" he asked, aghast. "James, you can't –"

"There has to come a time when I say enough, Remus."

"But you love her, James!"

"Yes," he admitted. Only then did he turn his head to look at Remus. "That's why I have to say enough. She asked me a long time ago to prove I cared about something more than myself. And I do. I care about her. It's never been a game to me – that's the only thing she got wrong. She was never just another tally mark. She's always been more than that. I thought I had shown her how much I had changed for her, but if she still says no, then that's that. It's over."

Remus didn't say anything, though he desperately wanted to. He wanted to say a dozen things, but he knew none of them would go over well. He had decided he would just talk to Lily and sort this out, when James grabbed his arm, twisting it not quite enough to be painful, but enough to suggest pain.

"Remus, you have to promise me you're not going to interfere in this," James said fiercely, his face inches away from Remus'. "This is my choice, and I know you've interceded in the past, but this time, you have to let it stand."

"James –"

"Promise!" he hissed. Remus was torn between wanting to stop his friend from making the worst mistake of his life, and knowing that if he did interfere, he'd probably just make things worse.

Looking away, he said, "I promise, James." James released his hand and sat on the ground. He laid his head down on his knees. Remus hated to see his friend in this pain. But he had promised. —

* * *

—That week was agony, not just because of the N.E.W.T.'s, but because Remus had to watch James try so hard to pretend that nothing had happened, and also watch Lily revert back into her old, tense, self. He didn't understand how these two could be so oblivious to what was so obvious to the rest of them. He hated watching them tear themselves apart. But he had promised. After all that James had done for him, he couldn't in good conscience betray that promise. But every chance he got that week, he tried to send subliminal messages to Peter or Sirius – or anyone, really. Anyone who had a chance to talk to Lily and get her to see how much James really cared about her, and, maybe more importantly, how much she really cared about him. 

The Saturday after exams fell two days before they were scheduled to go home. Remus, Sirius, Peter, Jen, and Chrissy had all somehow ended up sitting in a group in the Common Room, trying not to think about how well or how poorly they might have done on the exams, and what those scores would mean toward their eventual career plans. They all wanted to be off fighting Voldemort's rising threat as soon as they could, but their scores would, in some cases, determine how well they'd be able to do that. Jen's brothers had already joined Dumbledore's Order, and her sister and brother-in-law were closely affiliated with it and helped out however they could. Jen's biggest fears these days were for her young nephews and their safety. All of them had friends dedicated to the cause.

The silence was broken by shouting and laughter that could be heard through the open window. " . . . let me win!"

"That's Lily," Jen said, looking toward the window.

" . . . no fair!" came another voice.

"That's James," said Sirius. And all five of them jumped up and hurried toward the window just in time to see Lily tackle James off of a speeding broomstick. They both fell to the ground in an all-out tickling war, laughing.

"Looks like whatever was wrong this week has been fixed," Remus commented.

"Probably just stress from exams," Chrissy said. Out of the corner of his eyes, Remus saw Peter smile knowingly. "Well, we'll see you all in the morning." The Marauders said goodnight to the girls.

"I'm going to the kitchens for a last raid," Sirius said. "You gents want to come?" Peter glanced at Remus, who said, "We'll be there in a minute."

"Suit yourselves," Sirius said, shrugging, a left the Common Room.

"You talked to Lily," Remus said, as soon as the portrait had swung closed. "Didn't you?"

Peter looked at Remus for a moment, then said, "Yes. Someone had to. I thought you would, but when it became obvious you hadn't . . ."

"James made me promise not to interfere."

Peter laughed. "That sounds like James. And it sounds like you, to not fully break your word. But what were those looks I got from you all week?" Remus smiled.

"Hoping you'd talk to her."

"Well, I did. But she's the one who did something about it." He grew more serious. "But they're only friends again. I hope she really listened to what I said. James needs her."

"And she needs James," Remus said, remembering.

"Yes, that's true as well." Remus clapped a hand on Peter's back and steered him toward the portrait hole.

"Shall we, Wormtail?"

"By all means, Moony." And they left to join Sirius. —

* * *

—"So, explain this to me again, dear maiden." Sirius was flirting with a portrait. "I've given you the password; why aren't you opening up for me?" Remus rolled his eyes and exchanged a knowing look with Peter. The portrait, whose name was Genevieve, gave Sirius a little laugh. 

"Oh, Master Black, things are never dull with you around. I've told you; I have strict orders not to let anyone in before nine."

"And what time is it now?"

"You have two minutes left to wait, Master Black." If she could have patted him on the cheek then, she would have.

"Are you trying to tell me that you like James more than you like me?"

"Now, now, Master Black, he is the Head Boy."

"So?"

"Master Potter outranks you."

"Well, I _suppose_ . . . if that's the sort of thing that appeals to you . . ."

"Give it a rest, Padfoot!" Remus said, laughing. Sirius shrugged.

"Ah, well. Can't blame me for trying. What d'you reckon they're doing in there?" He jerked a thumb toward the portrait.

"The Head Boy and Girl? On the day the train leaves? I would guess packing, but . . ." Sirius dismissed Remus' sarcasm.

"I'm just saying, what's with all the secrecy? James has never imposed a boundary with us before."

"He's never had to worry about you before," Peter said. Sirius started to think of way to respond, but just then, Genevieve swung open.

"You may go in now, gentlemen," she said.

"It's about time," Sirius said, climbing through the hole, followed by Remus, then Peter. "Hey, James, where –" he started to say, then broke off and froze, sufficiently keeping Remus and Peter hanging out of the portrait hole. "Ugh, Prongs, that's disgusting," he said, shifting his position to place his hands on his hips. Remus felt something strangely like hope, and he shoved Sirius out of his way so he could see just what Sirius thought was so disgusting.

There, standing in the middle of the room, were James and Lily, in what looked to be a pretty intimate embrace. Remus watched them kissing, and grinned. He felt a nudge in his side, and there was Peter, also smiling. "I mean, come on," Sirius was continuing. "We didn't come in here to watch you two snog."

And now James was losing it, and he broke away from Lily, laughing. Scowling in Sirius' general direction, she deposited James on a nearby couch. She slowly crossed over to Sirius, arms crossed. He looked sort of nervous. "I'll have you know, Sirius," she said, "that you just ruined a perfectly good moment.

Remus looked at James, still convulsing with laughter, and said, with a laugh of his own, "No, I'd say he made an even better one." Lily looked as he indicated, sighed, and rolled her eyes.

"I'll have to deal with him later," she said. "Come on, Chuckles," she said to James. "We've got to go see Dumbledore."—

* * *

—Remus finished reading the letter from James, folded it, and put it in the inside pocket of his robes. Lily's twentieth birthday was today, and James was planning a party. Some of Lily's girlfriends were taking her out to celebrate this afternoon, and she and the other Marauders were coming later tonight. But James had written to ask Remus to come early, because he had something he wanted to talk about with Remus. Remus thought he had a pretty good idea what it was. 

And so he Apparated to the Potters' house in Godric's Hollow. It was a family house, and James had inherited it upon his parents' deaths the previous year. James was in a frenzy when Remus arrived. He was outside, pacing back and forth, waiting for Remus. And when Remus did arrive, James pulled him inside in a moment.

"Peace, James, peace!" Remus said.

"I'm going to ask her, Remus," James said quietly, to which Remus nodded.

"It comes as no surprise to me, Prongs. You've been dating for two years and in love with her far longer than that." But still James looked grave and nervous. "Come now, you don't think she'll say no?"

"She did once."

"The circumstances were entirely different then, James," Remus said with a hint of a laugh. When James sighed and still would not be still, Remus put a hand on his arm. "James," James took a deep breath and turned to him. "Trust me. You have nothing to worry about. Show me the ring."

James reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box and handed it to Remus. Opening it, Remus saw a simple gold band set with an emerald, a small diamond on each side. Remus nodded in approval as he handed it back to James. "It's perfect. She'll love it." He nodded distractedly.

"Whatever happens next, I want her by my side. Because I don't know where I'll draw my strength from without her." Remus felt a touch of envy at the love his friend had found. _Would that I could be so fortunate someday_, he thought, but he put that foolish wish out of his head, for Lily had been the only woman who he could ever imagine accepting him.

He wasn't allowed to feel sorry for himself more than a moment, for it was then that Sirius arrived, and to be gloomy when Sirius was around was a heavy task indeed. Even James, though Remus could tell he was still extremely nervous, managed to hide it remarkably well, so that it escaped both Peter and Sirius.

And then Lily arrived, looking stunning in a dark green Muggle dress. She received a warm welcome from Sirius, rather warmer than James would have liked, judging by the scowl on his face. But when Lily kissed him hello, he forgot about all of that.

The five of them ate supper, and then Lily opened her gifts, including her official "induction" into The Marauders, under the title of "Marauders' Keeper," which she accepted with a great laugh.

Then James came forward to present his gift. Remus, looking on, thought with amusement that he hoped James could get through the proposal without fainting, for he looked quite white.

"Lily," he said, pulling the box out of his pocket. He handed it to her as he continued. "Happy Birthday." She took it and looked at him with a knowing gaze, then she opened the ring box and froze when she saw the ring inside. For a moment she was unable to look away, and in that moment, James knelt beside her. "Lily," he said again, and took the box gently from her. Without dropping her gaze, he took the ring from it, picked up her right hand, and slid the ring onto her finger. "You are everything I ever dreamed of having, and more than I could ever have imagined being able to call mine. Anything that waits for me in the world, I can face if you are by my side. Please. Marry me?"

She held his gaze for a moment longer, then dropped it to the ring on her finger. Then, her face unreadable, she carefully pulled her hands from his then, slowly, removed the ring from her finger, dropped it into James' hand, and closed his fingers around it. James closed his eyes, trembling, trying not to let his emotions show. The tension in the room was unbearably heavy. Remus closed his eyes, feeling James' pain. He had been so certain . . .

Then Lily leaned down and whispered something very softly in James' ear. His eyes flew open and he jerked his head to face her, relief evident in his very posture. She smiled, a laugh in her eyes, and raised her left hand ever so slightly and wiggled the fingers. Then she said something else, also very quietly. And, looking slightly embarrassed, he let out a breath in almost a laugh, but sounding a little more desperate. She looked at him kindly, almost as if she were sorry for what she had done, but she couldn't pass up such a good joke.

Then Remus realized what James had done wrong, and it was all he could do to keep from laughing out loud. But James was placing the ring on the ring finger of her_ left_ hand and saying, "I'm not going through all that again. So?" Lily smiled widely and shook her head a little.

"James, get up off the floor." Once he had, and had seated himself beside her, she turned to him and looked at him for a moment before she spoke. "James . . . can you imagine any circumstances under which my answer would be no?"

"Yes," he said seriously. She looked away.

"That was a long time ago, James."

"Yes, but you said no once." She looked back at him and nodded.

"I did. But so much has changed since then." It was as if they had completely forgotten anyone else was in the room, watching. "I know my own heart now, and I've glimpsed my future, and you have to be a part of it. In this time when hardly anything else is certain, that is. I need you by my side, too."

"Lily . . ." he breathed, and reached out to push a strand of hair back behind her ear. She caught his hand and pressed it to her cheek. Remus found himself holding his breath.

"I don't know how much more of this I take," Sirius muttered. Peter snorted and tried his best to stifle it, but James and Lily had both heard, but they laughed. "I mean it," Sirius continued. "I can put up with a lot from you two, but it was getting a bit thick in here, you know what I mean?"

"You just wait til it happens to you, Padfoot," James warned. And the spell was effectively broken, but Remus noticed he still held Lily's hand.

Sirius stretched, propping his feet up on James' coffee table, leaning back to rest his head on his hands. "No chance, Prongs. No woman can catch me."

"What woman would want to?" Peter asked. And they all had a laugh at Sirius' expense. —

* * *

—By the end of the next summer, James and Lily were not only married, they had a son who obviously belonged to them, with his unruly thatch of black hair and his bright emerald eyes. They called him Harry James, and Sirius had been named his godfather. It was becoming harder and harder to pretend that they were a normal, happy family, a family that knew no threat. But they had all had their encounters with the rising force that was Voldemort. James and Lily had both faced him three times before Harry was even born. They had escaped with their lives, a fate matched only by the Longbottom family, who also had a young boy born at the end of the summer. 

All of them belonged to Dumbledore's private force, the Order of the Phoenix. They had lost so many friends. Jen's brothers had both been killed at the hands of Voldemort's followers. As had countless others.

Remus knew there was a traitor in their midst – everyone knew it. Somehow, whatever move they made to evade the Dark Lord, he seemed to be everywhere waiting for them. Trust was thin these days; Remus only completely trusted the Marauders and Dumbledore, and yet he knew that there was something more wrapped around Harry and the Longbottoms that he wasn't being told. He understood that – the fewer people who knew a secret, the less chance the secret would get out.

On Harry's first birthday, the Marauders gathered at Godric's Hollow with a special purpose. Lily and James were going into hiding for reasons they couldn't let out. Sirius was to be their Secret Keeper once they went into hiding. But Lily had had the idea they were going to put into action tonight.

She had suggested they leave something behind on the last night that was probably going to resemble anything the Marauders were used to. Something to embody the sense and the purpose that had always driven the strong friendship. So they were burying a time capsule tonight, each of them contributing something to represent both themselves and the group. They were burying it behind the house, with spells that would hide it until all but one of the five was gone. At that time, it would be able to be retrieved, and the last Marauder would be able to see what the others had put in, for that was a great secret. If all five of them should be killed at once, or even the last two killed at once, they were to write explanations for the next person to find it.

Lily had become obsessed with this idea. She was feeling more and more anxious as Harry grew, as if she knew something horrible and unimaginable were going to happen, and soon. She knew they were in danger. And she knew there was little she could do.

So the five of them, Harry on Lily's hip, stood in a circle in a grove of trees behind James and Lily's house. Each held a black velvet bag, each bag holding their personal item and a letter explaining it. A magical box stood open, waiting for each item to be placed in. Lily stepped forward.

"As you all know, tonight, James and I and Harry must go into hiding. I fear this will mark a turning point. And I don't think any of us can predict what will happen next. You all know that none of you have been given the full details of what will happen later, or even of why this must be. And you can't be given those details." A tear ran down her cheek, and James laid a hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him, and he nodded, smiling sadly. She went on. "I admit my fear, here and now. I won't hide it. I fear for my life, but I fear more for that of my child and of my friends. I fear for our world. For what might happen because of the evil that exists in it. So we gather tonight, to mark the past, and what was good about it. There is strength and a kind of magic that exists in friendship. I know this. Let us give that gift of strength now."

And she knelt and put her bag into the chest. James followed, then Sirius, then Peter, and finally, Remus put his own contribution in. As if on cue, the chest closed and sank beneath the earth. And the five stood there, alone, no one really knowing what to say.

"Aah, aah!" It was Harry who broke the silence. He reached for the earth where the box had disappeared. Lily gave a watery laugh, and buried her face in Harry's neck. Harry squirmed, but stilled when James came and wrapped his arms around both of them.

"Lily," Sirius said. She raised teary eyes to him. "I will die before I let anything happen to you. I will die before I let anything happen to Harry. You have my word."

"Thank you, Sirius. I know. I know you all would, and that's what gives me strength."

No one noticed the tear that streaked down Peter's cheek as he stood, unable to look at anyone.—

* * *

—Remus had been at his home in the country that Halloween night. He had been asleep when he felt something had gone terribly wrong. He sat straight up in bed and ran to the nearest window, and what he saw made his breath stop. The Dark Mark shone against the night sky. And it looked to rest above Godric's Hollow. 

"No," he whispered. "No." And for a moment, he was unable to move or to look away. He just stood at the window, horror-struck by what he saw and by what he knew it meant.

In the next moment, he had bolted from the window, changing into robes as quickly as he ever had, his mind whispering through a shocked litany of _James . . . Lily . . . no. _

Blindly, he Apparated as close to Godric's Hollow as he could, and then he ran, not noticing the people he met and shoved out of his way. He just ran, his footsteps pounding out that horrible litany from his mind.

He hadn't thought he could be shocked anymore. But when he skidded to a halt outside James and Lily's house, or what was left of it, he found he was wrong.

The house had been torn apart, torn to pieces. A few walls here and there were still standing, but most of the house was in ruin. The destruction seemed to spiral outward from what had been the nursery. There was no chance anyone had survived that.

_How? _his mind screamed. And then another mind-numbing blow came with the answer. _Sirius_. No, he couldn't believe that.

He looked around wildly for someone that he knew. He noticed what seemed to be tire tracks of a motorcycle in the dirt by the edge of the walk. _Sirius_, he thought again, shaking with horror.

But no – it wasn't possible – there had to be another explanation. Running again, he cast his mind around for where he could go to find answers.

Bang! He was at the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, and it looked deserted, too. He ran through the rooms, calling out names, but there was no one there. He turned to leave, frantic, when someone called his name. It was Dumbledore, looking tired and old.

"Albus! James – Lily, they aren't –"

"I'm afraid they are, Remus," said the Headmaster sadly. "Voldemort discovered them, and –"

"I won't believe it, Albus!" Remus said, not giving him a chance to finish. "Sirius wouldn't – he would never –"

"Sirius has already proved his guilt, Remus. They have him in custody in Azkaban prison," Dumbledore said as gently as he could. Remus just stood, shaking his head, unable to accept it. "When Peter found out –"

"Peter?" Remus asked suddenly. He couldn't believe he had forgotten. "Where's Peter, Albus? Where is he?" And now Dumbledore looked truly old. And Remus, in some small, detached part of his mind knew how Sirius must have proved his guilt.

"Sirius destroyed him, Remus." Remus sank to the floor, simply unable to stand any longer. The wash of emotions flooding through him was almost more than he could bear. Guilt, shock, horror, disbelief, grief, betrayal, anger, but mostly, despair and desolation. One thought now flooded through his mind. _James . . . Lily . . . Peter . . . Harry . . . Sirius . . . all gone._

He was alone.

"When are the services, Albus?" That small, detached part of his mind had taken over. Remus looked up at the Headmaster. "Will they hold all four at once?" Dumbledore smiled softly and shook his head.

"Three, Remus. Harry survived. And Voldemort is gone." —

* * *

—He existed. That was all he could say for certain about the next twelve years. He existed. With Voldemort gone – though he was inclined to believe as Dumbledore that he wasn't gone for good – the Order had been disbanded, and there was nothing for him to do. The full moons were torture now, as each one reminded him quite painfully of what he had lost. 

His anger at Sirius was sometimes all that kept him going. It was exhausting to be angry at someone for so long, but he managed it because sometimes it seemed that anger was all he could feel, and if he stopped being angry at Sirius, he wouldn't have anything at all. They had all been betrayed, and that betrayal hurt twice as much because it had been committed by someone who should have been the most steadfast friend. Remus had trusted him. _You're a good judge of character, Remus. _James' words haunted him.

He thought he had known Sirius. He had _trusted_ Sirius. How long had Sirius been lying to them all? Had he been lying when they buried the capsule? When he told Lily he would die to save Harry? Had all of that been a lie? Countless times Remus had gone to the grove of trees where he knew the capsule was buried. Countless charms he had tried, to unbury it. He was the last Marauder. And he had this wild idea that in that capsule, he would find the truth behind what had happened, some way to explain it that would make everything all right again.

He spent every day coming up with crazy theories about how Sirius had been framed, or it had never even happened at all. But by day's end, he had looked at each theory with logic, and each one had been discarded. The ugly truth remained. Sirius had betrayed him. He was alone.—

* * *

—_You have heard, I am sure, of the mishap that befell acclaimed wizard, Gilderoy Lockhart, at the end of our last school year. It was a terrible tragedy, to be sure, and it leaves me in need of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the coming year. I have reviewed your credentials and recommendations, and I wish to know if you would be interested in assuming the post. Please send your reply by return owl so that we can set up a time to conduct your interview. If you do not, I shall be at your home tomorrow at three, in order to conduct the interview then. _

_Much gratitude,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Remus had not responded to the letter. Which was why Dumbledore was sitting in his shoddy kitchen at this moment.

"You can't hire me, Albus," he said, not for the first time.

"On the contrary, Remus. I'm the Headmaster. I can hire anyone I like," Dumbledore replied quite cheerfully.

"I'm not qualified to teach," he insisted.

"Yes, you're right, the years we spend at school learning to be teachers hardly qualify any of us." Remus waved his hand impatiently at that.

"I'm ten years removed from that," he said.

"Yes, and I'm over a hundred," Dumbledore said, still smiling serenely. "So which of us is more qualified?"

Remus sighed. Then he pushed his chair away from the table and stood. "The other teachers won't accept me. They won't accept what I am."

"Remus," Dumbledore countered, also standing, "most of the teachers at the school now know you from your own school days. They have already been extremely accepting."

"What about Snape? He won't allow me to teach in the school with him."

"Luckily for us, the Potions Master has no say in who is hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts." He couldn't win. He had known that all along, but still . . . "Remus, there is another reason why I want you in the school this year."

"Black," Remus sighed, leaning against the counter and looking out the kitchen window. News of Sirius' escape had brought a myriad of emotions to Remus when he had first heard. It had taken him a moment to feel fear, because his first thought was, _Trust Sirius to do what everyone said couldn't be done_. "You want someone at the school who knows Black. Who can predict what he's going to do." He turned to face Dumbledore.

"Yes," the Headmaster answered. "We have reason to believe that Sirius means to come after Harry. To . . . finish the task he was assigned twelve years ago. I need you to take the post, Remus. Not only will you be an excellent teacher, you will be able to watch over and protect Harry. As the Head of the Order, I am asking you to do this."

Remus stood, eyes closed, and knew he couldn't refuse. He thought ahead to September. "I'll have to take the train," he said finally.

"Because of the full moon?"

"Well, yes," Remus admitted, opening his eyes with a wry smile. "But also because if I don't, who will watch over Harry there?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you. Professor." And then he was gone. —

* * *

—His first year was off to an eventful start. And he hadn't even reached the school yet. Before the Hogwarts Express had even reached Hogsmeade, he had eavesdropped on his best friends' son while pretending to be asleep as the boy t told two other children about how another of Remus' best friends was trying to come back and kill the boy. He had used his presence to ward off a confrontation between Harry and his two friends and another boy that could only have ended badly. He had warded off a dementor who had come to search the train for Sirius Black. And he had then come face to face with his best friends' son, who had fainted as a result of the dementor attack. It had been like coming face to face with James again, and it had thoroughly unnerved him. More so, because it was James' face, but Lily's eyes looked out of it. 

But he had dealt with the dementor and given the kids in the compartment chocolate to calm their nerves, and he now knew something of this Harry Potter he was supposed to be protecting beyond his memories of the infant he had known so long ago. Now, as the kids sat in silence, he collected his thoughts. The school year couldn't be any worse than all he had just been through, right?

_Still_, he mused, looking out at the rain-soaked landscape. _It's going to be interesting calling on one of my students in class and hearing my long-dead best friend speak.---_

* * *

—Harry was much like his father. One in-depth conversation was all Remus had needed to have that proven for him. Remus watched the boy leave his office, glad that Harry had stopped by. The look in Harry's eyes as he had tried to casually tell Remus that Ron and Hermione were in Hogsmeade without him . . . _As if he could convince me that he truly didn't care_, Remus had thought. 

But Harry had had more than Hogsmeade bothering him. It had surprised Remus to learn, once he managed to coax the information out of the boy, that Harry had been troubled for a few days by the thought that Remus hadn't thought him capable of fighting a boggart. He had been further surprised to learn that instead of picturing Voldemort as his greatest fear, Harry had actually thought of the dementors. It was a mature fear for a thirteen-year-old.

And in that way, Harry was not like his father. James had not been mature at thirteen. James had sought attention, had wanted it. Harry distinctly did not, and yet, he couldn't help but receive it. Being the Boy Who Lived and all that. He had a certain penchant for attracting trouble, like James, but Harry, Remus thought, would have given anything to just be ordinary.

It had been an interesting conversation, ending only when Snape had come in with Remus' dose of potion, and Harry had warned Remus that Snape would do anything to get the DADA position. It had been all Remus could do to keep from laughing out loud. —

* * *

—The year continued to be eventful. Sirius had apparently broken into the castle somehow, and attempted to force his way into Gryffindor Tower. He had not succeeded, but he had slashed up the portrait of the Fat Lady, and he had escaped. This worried Remus, because he knew Sirius could be getting into the castle in his Animagus form. That was something that, somehow, Dumbledore had never been told, and telling him now would be admitting that the four of them had taken advantage of and betrayed his trust while they'd been at school. The trouble was, keeping it a secret made Remus distinctly uneasy. 

The Dementors had swarmed the first Quidditch match of the season, causing Harry to fall from his broom. He was rescued by Dumbledore, but his broom had been destroyed by the Whomping Willow.

Snape had filled in for Remus during the last full moon, and assigned the class an essay on werewolves. With an obvious motive that would have worried Remus, had the whole class not been so upset upon being assigned homework in the first place that no one except Hermione had done it. Hermione did worry him, a little. She was very clever, and if anyone could figure out what Snape's cryptic hints meant, it was her. Luckily for Remus, she seemed busy and distracted enough that he hoped she'd have far more important things to worry about.

But it was the day he got back to teaching classes after the disastrous match that he figured he'd better have another word with Harry. He asked him about the broom, hoping Harry himself would eventually bring up the topic Remus wanted to talk about.

The dementors. They were the reason Harry had fallen. And Harry, like the insecure thirteen-year-old he was, thought this was somehow his fault. That he was somehow too weak to fight them. Remus hoped he had been stern enough to banish that ridiculous thought.

"The worst that happened to _you_, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of," Remus had told him.

"When they get near me, I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum," Harry had said softly then. Remus had reacted before he had time to think. His horror at that statement and his pity for the boy before him made him reach out to comfort him before he remembered that might not be appropriate.

Their conversation had continued and ended with Remus promising to teach Harry to fight back against the dementors.

"I'll need to stock up on chocolate," he muttered to himself when Harry had left. —

* * *

—After the Christmas holidays, Remus met Harry for their first private lesson. He had found another boggart lurking in the castle to use, since he didn't want to think about what would happen if he brought an actual dementor into the castle. He talked Harry through the basics of the charm. He had a pretty good grasp on it, and was able to make silver smoke shoot from his wand on the first try – without the dementor. 

His first attempt facing the boggart was not as successful. He fainted, which came as no surprise to Remus. He would have been astounded had Harry managed to counter a dementor attack on his first try.

But as the lesson became somewhat easier for Harry, it became increasingly difficult for Remus. After each attempt, Harry came back with something new he had heard from the night when his parents, two of Remus' best friends, had been killed. And Remus didn't want to know those details. He didn't want to know them, and yet, he couldn't help but listen.

"I heard my dad," was the hardest for him to handle, because when he asked about this, Harry's response was, "You didn't know my dad, did you?" His words went straight to Remus' stomach. This was not how it was supposed to be. Harry was supposed to know his parents. Harry was supposed to know Remus. Remus should have been like Harry's uncle, but instead, Remus was only 'Professor Lupin,' Harry knew his godfather only as a murderer, and Harry's parents had been dead for twelve years, with Harry never really having known them.

And when Remus finally called an end to the lesson, Harry asked another question that surprised him yet again, this one about Sirius Black and whether or not Remus knew him. "Yes, I knew him," he replied in a tone that did not allow for explanations. "Or I thought I did."

Harry left Remus knowing that if they had many more sessions like this one, they'd both be in trouble. Because if Harry continued to ask questions, Remus was afraid that he would start answering them.—

* * *

—They did have more sessions, but Remus tried to keep conversation as far away from his old friends as he could. He wasn't always successful, however. One day their conversation had turned to the fate that awaited Sirius if caught – the Dementor's Kiss. 

"He deserves it," Harry had said bitterly, which left Remus wondering how much of the truth Harry knew.

Harry's first real Patronus had come at another Quidditch game. A Firebolt had replaced his old Nimbus, and, in an effort to sabotage the Gryffindor team, the Slytherin boy Malfoy and some of his friends had turned up in dementor robes. Harry had sent a most peculiar Patronus their way – his first to take an actual form, and that form left Remus with a numb sort of shock.

Harry's Patronus was a stag.

With each meeting and each class period, Remus saw just how much Harry was like James, and yet, for all of that, he was unlike him in a lot of ways, too. For all his fame, he was not at all cocky. If anything, it fit him awkwardly, Remus noticed, as if he'd much rather have anonymity. He wasn't a prankster, which was not to say he hadn't had his fair share of detentions, but, as he himself had stated on the train, he didn't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually found him.

Such as trouble in the form of Sirius getting into the castle again, this time getting into Gryffindor Tower itself, and into Harry's own dormitory. Remus shuddered to think what might have happened if Harry's friend Ron hadn't awoken and screamed and alerted everyone to Sirius' presence.

Remus was more and more uneasy. He knew he should go to Dumbledore and tell him that Sirius was an unregistered Animagus, that he could turn into a dog. He knew he should attempt to find the long-ago-hidden Marauder's Map and use it to track Sirius. But somehow, he just couldn't.

The question of the map, at least, was resolved for him one afternoon during a Hogsmeade weekend. And, not entirely surprisingly, the incident involved Harry. Harry and a certain piece of parchment that Remus was all too familiar with. The Marauders' Map.

Remus didn't know how Harry had gotten it, didn't really want to know, and he had made that extraordinarily clear to the boy afterward.

Really, it had been just like old times. Snape making accusations that may or may not have been true, and Remus having to think as fast as he could to get a Potter and accomplice out of trouble.

From what Remus was able to determine, Harry had used the Map and, presumably, James' old cloak, to sneak into Hogsmeade. He had somehow been discovered, and, during Snape's interrogation, had revealed a bag of tricks and the blank Map. Snape of course, didn't know how to use the Map. He had probably tried some sort of revealing spell and the Map had done what it was designed to do in such circumstances – make fun of the individual who was trying to outsmart it. For Snape, that was bad enough, but when the Map had used the names Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, he had become livid and had tried to pin this down on Remus.

But Remus was more than adept at escaping such pinning, especially from Snape, and had not only kept Harry, Ron, and himself out of trouble, he had gotten the Map back as well. And once they were out of Snape's hearing, he had dropped his cheerful demeanor and given Harry and Ron a good talking to.

"Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry," he had said. "A poor way to repay them – gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks."

And he walked away, back to his office, where he pulled out the map and put it on his desk. Then he sat, resting his head in his hands and sighed. He had, perhaps, been unfairly harsh, taking his own guilt for keeping things from Dumbledore out on Harry. But he hadn't said anything that the boys didn't need to hear. And he knew, coming from him, the lesson would reach home far more quickly than it might have if it had come from anyone else.

He glanced at the map on his desk, where the insults were just beginning to fade. Chuckling, he said, "Oh, Harry. You are your father's son." Then, taking out his wand, he pointed it at the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." —

* * *

—When his schedule allowed, Remus spent time poring over the map. He was still a little amazed that he and his friends had created such a thing. He double-checked all the enchantments they had put on it, and they were all still working and intact. 

Not to be tricked by Invisibility Cloaks, Polyjuice Potions, or Animagus forms, they had said. He justified the time he spent with the map by looking on it always for a tiny dot labeled _Sirius Black_.

Part of him wanted to be the one to find Sirius. He had so many questions he wanted to ask. But part of him was also afraid to be the one to find Sirius. For one thing, any conversation might lead to Remus no longer being able to be angry at him. For another, Sirius had had no scruples about destroying three of his best friends. There was no reason why Remus should think that he would have any dilemma about killing him as well, and then going off to find Harry.

But there was that part of him who had insisted for twelve years that something just wasn't right. There was that annoying part of him that insisted that there was another explanation, that Sirius was innocent, and Remus hadn't been deceived in him at all.

His first year of teaching was coming to a close. And though Dumbledore had been dropping hints, he still wasn't sure if he would be coming back next year. He had enjoyed this year, certainly, but it had been extraordinarily hard, bringing back memories that Remus would just as soon keep buried.

He watched the map this night for a particular reason. Hagrid's hippogriff was being executed, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all worked very hard on preparing Hagrid's defense. Remus had a feeling that they would be sneaking down to Hagrid's hut at some point. And sure enough, as he skimmed over the map, he saw Harry and Hermione, but where was Ron? He looked back more closely, and there were all three of them, leaving the castle together. They were walking very close together, and Remus suspected they were under the cloak.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as they trekked down to Hagrid's, not paying full attention, just enough so that he could see if they were getting into any trouble. It was what he saw when in the middle of grading ag fourth year's essay that made him jerk all his attention back to the map.

Three of them had entered Hagrid's hut. But now, four were coming out. And the additional person was labeled _Peter Pettigrew_.

"No," he whispered. "It's not true. It can't be." But the map couldn't lie. If it said Peter was there, then Peter wasn't dead. Sirius hadn't killed him. And something about what the entire wizarding world had believed for the past twelve years was terribly wrong. Remus just didn't know what.

He began to stand, not sure what he was going to do, when he saw something else that made him freeze. A dot labeled _Sirius Black_ collided with the group, dragging Ron and Peter down beyond the Whomping Willow. And before they had disappeared from the map's sight, Remus was out the door.

He wasn't thinking about what he would say when he caught up with them, he wasn't thinking about how to go about this practically, all he knew was that Peter was alive. Sirius hadn't killed him. And if Sirius hadn't killed Peter, maybe . . . maybe Sirius hadn't betrayed them, either.

When he got to the Willow, the grounds around it were deserted. Looking around, he found a long branch on the ground. Picking it up, he darted between the whipping branches and pressed the knot on the trunk that made the Willow freeze. Then he was into the hole below it's roots, running down the all-too-familiar passage.

It seemed longer than it had before. Or maybe he was just older than he had been before. By the time he had reached the steps that led up to the Shrieking Shack, he was clutching at a stitch in his side, but he didn't stop. He began to climb. For on the run down, a thought had penetrated his mind. Harry somehow knew the story of how Sirius had betrayed his parents. He thought it was true. He had told Remus that he thought Sirius deserved a fate worse than death. And Harry was like James: he would go after his friend. He would discover Sirius' Animagus form. And he would try then to avenge his parents.

Remus didn't really think Harry would be able to kill Sirius. But he also didn't want to take any chances. He stumbled into the Shack, breathing hard. He wasn't sure where to go – he moved in the direction of the main room when he heard a shout from upstairs.

Once there, he discovered a frightening scene. Ron was lying on the floor with an obviously broken leg. Hermione was cowering in a corner. Sirius was crumpled at Harry's feet, a cat on his chest. And then there was Harry. Harry had his wand pointed straight at Sirius' heart, the look on his face clearly stating that he was ready to do anything to avenge the man he thought had been responsible for his parents' murders. Before tonight, Remus would have agreed with him. But now . . . now he wasn't sure.

Once he had disarmed Harry, the three adolescents were dismissed from his mind. He addressed Sirius. "Where is he?" he asked. And Sirius pointed toward Ron.

For a moment, Remus was confused. Then it hit him. _Ron's rat_. And then everything fell into place.

Sirius hadn't betrayed Lily and James. Sirius had been betrayed. Sirius had done something he thought would throw Voldemort off their track. But without realizing it, he had played right into Voldemort's hands. He had convinced James and Lily to name Peter as Secret Keeper. And Peter . . . Peter, quiet, shy, Peter, had betrayed Sirius. Betrayed Lily and James. Betrayed and tricked them all.

Sirius was innocent.

He crossed to Sirius, took his hand, pulled him to his feet, and embraced him. Sirius returned the embrace fiercely, knowing that Remus, at least, had understood, and had forgiven him.

He remembered that the other three were in the room when Hermione began screaming at him. And he knew she knew. And she was upset enough to let it out, feeling a keen betrayal that Remus could understand.

He tried to head her off, to make her listen to his explanation before she let out what he would prefer to break to Harry and Ron slowly and gently, but there was no stopping her, not with the rage she was in.

"_He's a werewolf_!" she shouted. He hated those words. Truth or not, he hated them. Those words had been the cause of much of his suffering in life. He's a werewolf. And there was nothing he could do but admit it now.

He should have known it would be Hermione who figured it out. He should have known that she would be the only one to do Professor Snape's assignment, and he should have known that she was clever enough to recognize his symptoms, compare his illnesses to the lunar chart, and understand his boggart. He should have known it would be Hermione. She was a lot like Lily. _It must be something about Muggleborns_, he mused.

He had been lucky enough to have Dumbledore, then the Marauders, then Lily accept what he was without explanations. He couldn't expect that again, and he didn't. He would have to convince these three to listen, and it wasn't going to be easy. He would have to tell them everything. And there were many distractions.

Harry latched on to the insignificant things like Remus knowing how to work the Map, which Remus dismissed with quick admission of having written it. Ron was angrily defending the accusations Remus launched against his rat with a bizarre and ironic loyalty. And then there was Sirius, wanting so badly to finish off Peter once and for all that he wasn't inclined to let Remus explain anything first. Pair these things with Harry's anger and wish for revenge against his parents' betrayer that was equally as strong as Sirius', albeit differently directed, and took all of Remus' patience and training to deal with all these things at once.

Strangely enough, it was Hermione who took his story the calmest, merely pointing out the things that, from her point of view, went against all logic. Her interruptions were the easiest to deal with, as he only had to counter them logically to convince her. Just like the classroom.

He had just gotten into the tale of the Marauders, how they had discovered what he was and had trained to become Animagi to help him when he was faced with another distraction, this one in the form of an irate Potions Professor who bore a twenty-year-old grudge against Remus and would not listen to reason. It was Harry, Ron, and Hermione who dealt with this distraction, good because this meant they wanted to hear what he had to say, and bad because the three of them had rather violently attacked a teacher. However, Remus was, for the moment, willing to overlook this fact.

They were not easily convinced. To their credit, they raised some good questions about how Sirius had found Peter, had known that Scabbers was Peter. Even with Sirius' answers to these questions, Harry was still unmoved. He was convinced that Sirius had betrayed his parents. He yelled that Sirius had even admitted to killing them.

"Harry . . ." Sirius started, tears in his eyes. "I as good as killed them." He had been the one to convince Lily and James to use Peter as their Secret Keeper. He knew he was responsible for what had happened to Harry's parents. In the middle of his explanation, he broke down. And Remus realized what Sirius must have gone through, all those years in Azkaban, knowing he was being held for a crime he hadn't committed, but a crime he was responsible for all the same. If he hadn't tried to outsmart Voldemort, if he hadn't tried to stay one step ahead, James and Lily would probably still be alive. He knew that. But that was how Sirius had always worked. Stay one step ahead of the opponent, always one step ahead.

Remus watched as Sirius broke down, and decided that now was the time to act. "Enough of this," he said fiercely. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, _give me that rat_."

The rest of the night was painful for him to remember. Peter had appeared, had been questioned by both Sirius and Remus, and had proved his guilt. And all the anger Remus had harbored toward Sirius for so long shifted to Peter, and Remus was prepared to kill him, to settle the debt. It was right.

But Harry . . . Harry who had been ready to kill Sirius with his bare hands when he thought he had been the betrayer . . . Harry, who was so like James, so like his father . . . Harry stopped them. He saved Peter's life. He said James wouldn't have wanted Remus and Sirius to become killers themselves over someone like Peter.

Would James have encouraged forgiveness or retribution, had the tables been turned? Remus didn't know. But they had let Harry make the decision, and Harry had decided. And if it hadn't been for the full moon . . .

Remus hadn't taken his potion. And so, when the group started to take Peter to the guards, when they were on the very verge of clearing Sirius' name, of setting the records straight, the moon came out. And Remus transformed.

And once again, the werewolf ruined everything. —

* * *

—It wasn't until much later that Remus learned the whole of what had happened that night. By the time morning had come, Sirius, who had been in Ministry custody, had escaped, and Snape, at least, was certain that Harry had had something to do with it, but there was no way to prove it. Somehow, the hippogriff that was supposed to be executed had disappeared, too. 

Snape had been furious. The Minister of Magic was going to reward him for his aide in capturing Black, and when that chance had gone, Snape had lashed out in the only way he could.

He told his students that Remus was a werewolf.

Remus knew it was over then. There was no way he could stay and teach, not once word got out to the parents. Dumbledore had found him, packing in his office, and hadn't needed to ask. He had simply nodded, and then he had explained the basics of what had happened last night.

Somehow . . . Remus got the feeling from Dumbledore that Harry and Hermione had helped Sirius escape. He didn't say that directly, of course. But he did tell Remus how the Dementors had attacked, and Harry had driven them back, saving himself and Ron and Hermione and Sirius and Snape. Remus couldn't have been prouder.

He wasn't surprised that Harry had found out he was leaving. He wasn't surprised when the boy turned up in his office. In patient tones, Remus explained why. After what had happened last night and what had almost happened, Remus knew he couldn't stay. It was too dangerous. He would never have forgiven himself if he had hurt anyone.

To distract Harry from trying to convince him to stay, he asked the boy for the details of what had happened last night.

It was really quite an extraordinary story Harry told. With a start, Remus realized that if he had studied the map more closely last night, he would have seen the truth of it earlier, for the Hermione and Harry he had seen in the entry hall was a different Hermione and Harry he had seen with Ron leaving for Hagrid's.

Through last night's events, Harry had figured out James' Animagus form. And Remus used that as his opportunity to return some things to the boy. He gave him back James' Invisibility Cloak, and then he handed Harry the Marauders' Map. "I am no longer your teacher," he said, "so I don't feel guilty about giving you back this as well. It's no use to me, and I daresay you, Ron, and Hermione will find uses for it." After all, that had been its intended purpose. To aid magical mischief-makers to come.

Harry grinned as he took it. "You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would've wanted to lure me out of school . . . you said they'd have thought it was funny." Remus smiled as he closed his case.

"And so we would have," he told Harry. "I have no hesitation in saying that James would have been highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle." There was more he wanted to say, more he wanted to explain. Harry should hear so many stories, but there wasn't time. Dumbledore came then to get him, and Remus did want to leave as soon as possible. The stories would have to wait.

It was interesting, he mused as he rode away in the carriage. He didn't really feel angry anymore. On the contrary – he felt more light-hearted than he had in years. And there was no good explanation for it. He would have expected all the anger he had built up against Sirius to shift to Peter or at least to shift somewhere. But, somehow . . . maybe he had just gotten used to being angry, but Peter's betrayal somehow didn't hurt as much as Sirius' had.

_You're a good judge of character_, he had been told once. He knew Peter, and he knew Peter had an explanation. Last night, Remus had been prepared to kill him, on the basis of being a traitor. But then he had spent the night as a werewolf, and he had remembered. He was being forced to leave the one place he'd ever truly called home because of labels.

He did not forgive Peter for what he had done. But he also felt certain that, sooner or later, Peter's actions would be judged and dealt with.

He was glad he didn't have to be the one to do it.

He was ready to start again, and this time, it felt more like living. Sirius was on the run, he would have a hard time finding another way to live, but things were more the way they were supposed to be now. Harry knew about his father and his father's friends. That was the important part now. He didn't now everything, of course, but that would come. Harry knew the most important parts of it. And for now, that was enough. —

* * *

One more chapter! Please please please please please PLEASE review! 


	4. Coming Together

This is the end! The last chapter! It is all coming together, aren't you excited?

SUper amounts of thanks to all those who have stuck with it through to the end. This segment is over, the trilogy is over, and I would say that now I don't know what to do with my life, except that . . . well, there are other things in the works . . .

Anyway, enjoy! I DISCLAIM once again that I do not own it and it is not mine. It is JK Rowling's, as she is quite marvelous!

* * *

Remembering the Seeker

Chapter 4 - Coming Together

Remus was jolted from his reverie by the chime in Ottery St. Catchpole. He counted. _. . . ten . . . eleven . . . twelve. Midnight._

Midnight already? How long had he been sitting here, lost in his memories? He felt as if he'd relived his whole life, and maybe, in a way, he had. He stood, stretching out stiff limbs. Peter's letter fluttered to the floor. He froze mid-stretch, and stared at it.

He couldn't change public opinion, he knew that. It was too dangerous a time to reveal the whole truth to the world. After . . . maybe then. Maybe after Voldemort was gone. Remus would try then to clear things up.

But right now . . . Peter had helped, more than he would probably ever know. If it was true that Peter went to his death tonight, he had left this behind for Remus, and also for Harry.

Remus hadn't had time before to tell Harry everything that needed to be said. Things were probably worse off in a lot of ways for that decision, not that he had had any control over it at the time. But Remus knew that if Harry went off to face Voldemort with hatred in his heart — at Peter, at Snape, at Voldemort himself — he would not be able to succeed. As the Head of the Order, it was Remus' job to ensure that Harry's fight be as even as possible.

The Head of the Order. Now, that had come as a shock. He had expected Alastor to replace Dumbledore, or Minerva, perhaps. But certainly not himself.

But this had, apparently, been one of Dumbledore's strange, incomprehensible, dying wishes. Minerva had found a letter in the Head's office at the school, waiting for her. The fact that such a thing existed made Remus wonder how much Dumbledore had known before he left with Harry. Had he known that the Death Eaters were about to attack the school? Had he known Snape had betrayed them all?

Had he known he was about to die?

_Minerva,_ the letter had said. _I write this on a whim, and am no doubt going to think myself incredibly foolish later, but I once received some very good advice from a very wise woman who gave me a gift. 'Trust your instincts,' she told me. 'If you feel compelled to act, act. You may not understand why, but it is part of what I am giving you. You may never fully understand it, but you must act as if you do. Act on these compulsions, and people will believe that you are omniscient, perhaps. With the job I have in mind for you, that will be most important.'_

_Yes, a befuddling gift, was it not? You have never heard that particular story, I daresay, but now is not the time. I have wisdom of my own to impart, and someday it must be said, whether that day is today or not. _

_The school must stay open, Minerva. If there is even one child left in it, the school must stay open. To close it now would be to court disaster. The school must remain open. I have laid protections that I myself do not fully understand, but they are powerful and they are there, and so the school must remain open. I do hope I have made myself clear. _

_You will do an outstanding job in my place, Minerva, this I know. You are exceedingly capable. I was unsteady my first years here, as well. But the portraits will help, once you learn not to let them walk all over you, and once you learn to sort out the rather conflicting advice. _

_But on to the more important replacement, one that is not as clear as your own ascension has been. Here I shall name my replacement as Head of the Order. You must put your full trust behind him, Minerva, for others will follow your example, others who may, at first, be doubtful. Explain to them that he is my choice. He is one who can and will be triumphant and successful. He has the experience and the talent and the loyalty to succeed. He has learned, recently, that one cannot judge by the majority opinion. He has learned this lesson most fully; you may trust that it is there. It will serve him well. He has already proved himself time and time again. The younger generation coming in will look up to him as a mentor, for he has never attempted to distance himself from them because of their youth. But rather, he has taken them under his wing, taught them, molded them carefully. They will respect him and follow where he leads. _

_As must the rest of you. _

_Oh, and once a month, he will need a little extra help. _

_Best of luck,_

_Albus_

When Minerva had shown him the letter, his first objection was that it nowhere stated his name. But then he realized what Albus had done. He had taken the characteristics of who he needed as the new Head, and it was the people who had read the letter who had decided to put his name in. The line about extra help once a month could have applied to anyone, after all.

Maybe he was Dumbledore's choice. But in the end, Remus mused, that wasn't really the important part. The leaders of the Order had agreed. That was what people would remember.

Slowly, he bent and picked up the letter. Folding it carefully, he tucked it inside his robe. Taking his cloak off the peg, he left his room in the inn in Ottery St. Catchpole, and Apparated to the Burrow. Or, as close as he could get to the Burrow. Walking up the hill, he thought about how to do what he needed now to do. Take Harry to Godric's Hollow. Find the capsule. Explain.

He knocked softly on the door. He heard movement inside. "Remus?" came Arthur's voice from behind the kitchen door. Remus heard a muttered incantation, then there was a pause, and then the door opened.

This test had been a new implementation of Remus'. It was a form of identifying the Order's members. Under this incantation, the person appeared outlined in red if he was an inducted member of the order, orange if he was closely affiliated, yellow if he was under the Order's supervision. It could not be duplicated through any means, not even Polyjuice.

Remus stepped inside the small kitchen. "Evening, Arthur. Molly," he said, nodding to each. Molly stood from the table, and crossed to her husband, looking worried.

"Remus, is everything all right?" He held up his hand.

"Yes, as far as that goes these days. Molly, I need Harry as soon as he wakes." She nodded.

"For how long?"

"For most of the day, probably." She still looked concerned. She looked after Harry like a mother. She didn't know what Harry and her son and Hermione planned to do this coming year. Yet. Remus knew, however. As soon as he had taken up his new position, Harry had come to him and told him, in a tone of voice that defied him to refuse.

He was no longer the young, awkward boy Remus had first met four years ago.

"Molly," he said, softly but firmly. "I need Harry tomorrow." He left no room for questions. She nodded.

"Come in," she said. "Have a cup of tea while you wait." He accepted, removing his cloak. He wished he could explain things to Molly, because she looked so worried, but the truth was both too long and involved to tell now and too likely to be even more worrisome.

Arthur was asking him questions, and he was trying to respond as best he could, despite the fact that he was tense and distracted. _It has to be soon_, he kept thinking. _Any minute now_.

And then it came, a strangled sort of cry from upstairs. Molly was up and off toward the stairs like a shot, but Remus stopped her.

"Molly," he said. She turned and her eyes met his. He crossed past her to head upstairs himself.

"Remus," she said breathlessly. He turned, one foot on the lowest step. "Is everything truly all right?" He hesitated before responding.

"Harry knows the dangers he faces, Molly. What I must do today will help him better face those dangers." She nodded, and backed away.

"We've put him in Percy's old room, by himself," she said. Remus nodded and climbed the stairs. Reaching the room, he knocked softly, then pushed the door open.

"Harry?" He was sitting up in bed, breathing hard. He jumped when Remus called his name, but when he saw who it was, he gasped out, "Wormtail's dead!" Remus closed his eyes, nodding with great effort. He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, lighting a lamp with a wave of his wand.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked as Remus pulled a chair to the bedside.

"Verifying the contents of a letter I received earlier tonight."

"What did it say?"

"That Peter would die tonight," Remus said heavily.

"How do _I_ know he's dead?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"You saved his life," Remus reminded him. "Three years ago." Harry looked away as he remembered. "Harry –"

"Who was the letter from?" he asked suddenly.

"Peter," Remus said softly.

"What?" Harry asked. "And you believe it?" he accused.

"Yes," Remus said firmly. He pulled the letter from his robes and handed it to Harry, who took it and read it through quickly.

"How do you know this isn't a trap?" he asked when he was done. "How do you know that this," he shook the letter, "isn't just a bunch of lies to . . . lure you to this place and . . . finish you off?"

Remus sighed. "Because I do, Harry, and know you aren't going to accept that, so let me explain. You have never known Peter when he wasn't either a hero or a traitor. And maybe both those descriptions are accurate, and maybe neither of them are. I knew Peter, Harry. Not the hero, not the traitor, I knew _Peter_. The Peter who knew he was never going to be as smart or as clever or as popular as the rest of us. And he didn't begrudge us that fact, Harry. In your mind, you've painted a picture of him as someone who was less than we were, as a person. Someone who was always dissatisfied with the position he held in life, someone who was just waiting to turn and take revenge. And that's not even close to being Peter, Harry. He was . . . fiercely loyal."

"Obviously," Harry muttered.

"He was. Even in this, I think. Now that he's explained it, it makes sense. It fits Peter. He would do anything to help us, even if it was dangerous for him. He risked the Animagus transformation for us, and on the other side of that, he stood up to us when he had to. Did you know that it was Peter who got your father when Sirius told Snape how to get past the Whomping Willow? Peter knew he was no use to me, at that moment. He didn't try to be more than he was, ever. If he thought giving in to Voldemort was the only way to protect us . . ."

"This could just be another lie!" Harry said.

"Yes, you're right, it could be," Remus admitted. "But I don't think it is. However, you are your own person, Harry. You don't have to chose to trust my judgment in this. There is one way to prove that I'm right, and that's to go –"

"And find this capsule? What's so important about it?" Harry demanded.

"On your first birthday, Harry, your parents and myself and Sirius and Peter gathered on your father's property to bury a time capsule. None of us knew what the others put in. We spelled it so that it would only be able to be recovered when there was only one of us left. We agreed that the last Marauder would dig up the capsule. And if we were all finished before that last Marauder had a chance, it would appear, and anyone could find it and see what was most important to us. This capsule holds the answers I've been searching for for sixteen years, Harry." When Harry still looking inclined to argue, Remus used a tactic that Dumbledore had used against him four years ago. Standing, he said, "I am leaving for Godric's Hollow tomorrow at eight. Ultimately, Harry, it is your choice whether or not you will join me. But as your father's friend, I am asking you to do this. As the Head of the Order, I am charging you with making every attempt to uncover the truth." And he left the room.

* * *

The next morning, Remus sat at breakfast early with Molly, Arthur, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. The room was quiet throughout the meal. Remus sat, watching the stairs and waiting.

Finally, at ten til eight, Harry came down, dressed for traveling. He and Remus exchanged a long look. Remus smiled. "Ready, then, Harry?" he asked, standing. Harry hesitated, then nodded.

"Harry?" Hermione questioned. He glanced at her, looking, Remus thought, a little guilty.

"I'll be back, Hermione," he mumbled.

"Harry," she said again, moving to stand, but Ron put a hand on her arm.

"He'll be back, Hermione," he said. Slowly, she sat back down. Remus led the way outside.

They walked in silence for some time, until Harry finally spoke up. "Don't think I don't know what you did last night," he said. "To get me to come with you."

"I played you, Harry." Remus' straightforward admittance took Harry by surprise.

"What?"

"I played you. I played on your sense of honor and duty. I took advantage of what I knew to be your weakness, in exactly the same way as I used to with your father and Sirius." When Harry remained silent, Remus glanced at him. "What? Did you think that just because I'm a member of the Order I will always use honest tactics? You do what needs to be done to get the job done. You of all people ought to know that. If getting things done requires manipulation, then so be it. I'm not the first to have done it. It's a tactic Dumbledore used all the time." That got Harry's attention.

"On you?" he asked. Remus smiled grimly.

"Harry, how do you think he got me to teach at Hogwarts in the first place?" He looked away again, considering that. "The point, Harry, is that, yes. We haven't always been perfectly honest with you. I know how frustrating that can be. I was left in the dark for much of the time that your parents were in hiding. And I knew I was being lied to. But I also recognized then, like now, that sometimes there is simply no other choice. I won't lie to you, Harry, I can promise that. But I don't promise that I'm always going to tell you the whole truth. I won't tell you everything, and you're going to have to accept that. And you're going to have to trust me."

Remus waited for his response. Harry was silent, still except for the continual forward motion as the two of them kept walking forward. Then, slowly, Harry nodded. Remus smiled. He'd been a little worried that Harry might try to rebel. From the things Remus had been told about Harry's state of mind during his fifth year, he had felt that everyone was deceiving him. And he'd been angry. And angry, Remus knew, was not going to get the job done. It was only going to exhaust him.

"Can I ask you something, then?" Harry said. Remus nodded. "I'm not trying to be . . . I'm just trying to look at this from all sides." Remus nodded again. "Well . . . _could_ this be a trap, Remus?" Remus took a deep breath, considering.

"Yes," he said slowly. "It could."

"Then why –"

"Because even if it is, once we're at the grove, no one can do anything to us." Harry stopped walking. Remus stopped a few paces later and turned to look at the boy.

"The magic at Godric's Hollow is that strong?" he asked.

"No," Remus said, and motioned for Harry to keep walking. He did, and Harry ran to catch up.

"Then –"

"The magic in the grove is that strong. No one can get past the barrier who wasn't there when it was erected, not until all five of us are dead."

"Then how can I get in?"

"You were there, Harry. You can get past the barrier because you were there sixteen years ago. The capsule isn't tied to you, but you can get into the grove. We set it up with the idea that whoever was left would take you, too. In case of the worse. It was for you. We said it was for us or the people who would come after, but it was really for you. I think we knew, somehow, that you would be the one . . . that things would, I don't know." Remus shook his head in mild frustration. "Anyway, we wanted to do something to help you. Peter knew that. I think that's partly why . . ." He trailed off.

"If he isn't dead?" Harry asked quietly. Remus squinted at the sky, drawing a deep breath as he formulated his answer.

"There are only a handful of people in the world who can say that he is or isn't with any certainty, Harry, and you're one of them. But if you don't want to be the one to make that call . . . we'll know when we get to the grove. If Peter is waiting for us, or if the capsule doesn't appear, you and I will Disapperate to a safe place. Inside the grove, no one but Peter can challenge us, not even Voldemort."

"How do you know Voldemort can't break through the barrier?" Harry wanted to know.

Remus smiled. "Because Dumbledore couldn't. Dumbledore tried to break through the barrier, and he couldn't. Peter is the only one who can challenge us there, Harry. You told me he was dead, and I trust that. And even if that turns out not to be true, if it's just Peter, I can talk to him. I can offer him asylum. For the sake of the friendship we once had, I owe him that."

"You _owe _him?" Harry asked, incredulous. "How could you possibly owe _him_ anything? He betrayed you all! He sold you to Voldemort! All of you!" Remus kept walking quietly, letting Harry have his outburst. It confirmed what Remus had already known.

"Harry, why did you break up with Ginny?" he asked abruptly. Harry was unprepared for the sudden change in topic, and the intimacy of the question caught him off guard..

"For the same reason you won't start anything with Tonks," he shot back a moment later, hoping, Remus guessed, to catch him likewise off-guard. But Remus merely smiled.

"Yes, most likely." He received a sidelong glance from Harry, who hadn't expected him to admit it. "But the difference there is that Nymphadora and I have talked and have reached an understanding. It is far from being satisfactory, for either of us, but we have talked. Can you say the same for yourself and Ginny?"

He could not, which Remus knew. He remained silent for a moment, then said, "You think I did the wrong thing." It was not quite a question.

"I think you are trying to do the right thing, but going about it in the wrong way," Remus replied softly. Harry didn't respond to this, so Remus continued. "Harry, you have fallen prey to one of the classic misconceptions of parenthood and heroism. You are far from being the first. You're not even the only one in this conversation to have done so." That got his attention. He looked up at Remus, slightly troubled and trying not to show it.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Feeling as though you have to protect anyone you love. Trying to keep those people safe and far away from danger, and so, far away from yourself. You can't do that for Hermione or Ron or any of us, so you're trying to with Ginny. But she's going to rebel. The harder you try to confine her, the more she's going to want to push out."

"She can't come with us!" Harry said emphatically.

"No, she can't. But she needs to stay under protection because _she_ realizes that it's the best thing for her, not because someone has ordered her to. She loves you, Harry, whether you want to admit that right now or not. She's devoted to you. But she's her own person, and the surest way to ensure that she makes at least one attempt to escape and follow you is to try and order her to stay put." A flash of fear had crossed Harry's face when Remus had mentioned Ginny following him, and Remus knew why. "Talk to her, Harry. It's the best advice I can give you. The two of you need to talk, seriously, as adults. Come to an understanding. Trust me when I say that things will work out better in the long run if you do."

Harry was silent. Remus glanced at the boy; he looked trouble and pensive. _Not surprising_, Remus thought. _He actually thought no one really realized what he was doing. _

It was, therefore, just as well that they had reached the Apparition point.

"Are you up for Apparating yourself, Harry, or would you be more comfortable with Side-Along? I know you aren't licensed yet–"

"I'm fine," he said.

"As Head of the Order, I really shouldn't condone Under-age Apparition . . . it being illegal and all . . ." He trailed off and Harry smiled, which had been Remus' goal.

"Are you going to tell me that none of the Marauders Apparated outside of lessons before being licensed?" Harry asked, glancing sidelong at Remus. An image of Sirius missing an ear sprang to Remus' mind and he chuckled.

"If I did, you'd never believe me and rightly so. Now then. You've seen the picture of the Apparition spot for Godric's Hollow, yes?" Harry nodded. "Then, let's go."

A moment later, they had left Ottery St. Catchpole far behind and were standing just outside another, unfamiliar village. "This is as close as we can get to the grove," Remus said. "And we'll be walking from here." Harry had closed up again, lost in his thoughts as they began walking.

"You never answered my question," he stated a few moments later. Remus glanced at him; Harry took that as a signal to continue. "When I asked about Peter. You asked me why I broke up with Ginny; you never answered my question."

"Likewise, you never really answered mine," Remus responded. When Harry looked puzzled, he repeated, "Why did you break up with Ginny?"

It was a few moments before Harry responded. "I can't – I'd do anything for her, to keep her from being hurt. If something happened . . . if the only way I could destroy Voldemort would be to destroy Ginny, too . . . I don't think I could, Remus. I don't think I could do it. It scares me, how I feel about her. Having her in danger is a weakness for me, and I can't –"

"Loving someone is not a weakness, Harry," Remus said softly. "Is the same not true of Ron and Hermione? Of Molly and Arthur? Of me and Tonks? Of course it is," Remus said, answering his own question. "But in a different way and I understand that. But answer something else for me, if you will." Harry looked at him, grave and silent. "Do you remember what I said to you in third year when you told me the form your boggart would take?"

"You said . . . that it was mature. To fear fear. Because that's what it meant to have a Dementor as my boggart," Harry answered haltingly.

"Yes." Remus stopped walking and waited for Harry to turn and face him fully. "Loving someone does not make us weak, Harry. It's not even losing someone we love. It's fearing to lose them," he said emphatically. "_Fearing_ to lose them, Harry. _Fear_ is your weakness. Fear and other negative emotions that Voldemort will feed on."

"What does this have to do with –"

"Harry, it is _imperative _that you not face Voldemort with any negative emotions. Like a dementor, he will feed off of them. He will take your anger, your hatred, your fear and use them against you. That's what he knows. He understands the power those emotions have. He doesn't, has never, understood the power in positive emotions. He underestimates that power, and looks on it as weak. And that will be his downfall, if you know how to use it." Remus closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"You won't win any battles being angry, Harry," he said more softly. "And you are. You are angry, and it's not without reason, but . . . you're angry at Voldemort and at Snape and at Malfoy and Peter and I don't even know who else. Anger will only exhaust you, Harry. It doesn't help. Believe me, I know. You _have_ to let go of that anger. As impossible as it sounds, you have to forgive these people." Harry looked away.

"Anyway," Remus said wearily, beginning to walk again. "That's why I owe Peter something. Because when he saw his choice was to destroy Voldemort only by destroying his friends, he chose to protect his friends instead. He chose to protect me, and I know it sounds backwards, that he protected the ones he loved by betraying them, but . . . our safety was more important to him than his own. And that's commendable, even if things didn't end the way he intended. The point is, he tried. And I owe him recognition that he tried."

They walked in silence the rest of the way to Godric's Hollow. As Remus wordlessly led the way to the grove, Harry drew his wand, body tense and eyes moving, searching the surroundings.

If someone knew that a house had once stood on the land Remus walked through, the evidence could be seen. To anyone else, the one time foundation of the Potter House was only an overgrown field standing in front of the forest line.

But the marks were still there. A low stone wall still stood beneath the tall grass, and the lane that had led to the house was still visible. The copse of trees Remus was walking toward was not quite part of the forest.

There was also a kind of dormant power in this place. Harry couldn't fully explain it, but he lowered his wand and relaxed. He knew he had been here before, and he knew nothing could hurt him here. He stopped walking to look around, caught up in that inexplicable power he was feeling. He slowly turned, taking in the view of the place that should have been his home. It was what he saw in one corner of the property that made his heart stop.

Rows of rounded stones stood nearly hidden by the growth around them. It looked as though there may once have been an iron fence around the stones, but it had long since been removed. A lump formed in his throat as he looked at them. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from the small cemetery that held, he was sure, held his family.

Taking a deep breath, Harry nodded to Remus and the two of them continued walking toward the small copse of trees. At the threshold, Remus stopped and gestured to Harry. "You first," he said.

Harry felt the barrier as he passed through it. A moment later, Remus stepped through. Harry opened his mouth to ask Remus what would happen next, only to find he didn't need to. For no sooner had Remus entered the grove than a wooden chest began to rise from the ground. Harry and Remus stood perfectly still, watching it. The lid rose to reveal the inside, divided into five sections. Beneath each section was a tiny plaque bearing a name. _Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, The Marauders' Keeper_, these plaques read. In each compartment was a parchment envelope and a black velvet bag. Harry looked to Remus.

"Well, go on, then, Harry," he said. And Harry knelt before the trunk. It was then that he saw the envelope attached to the inside of the lid. He reached for this first, and opened it.

_We are the Marauders,_ it read. _The Marauders plus one. We are a group of school friends, now trying to live in the world. We face an evil foe, who would destroy everything we stand for. We cannot know how the fight will end; therefore, we live this chest behind. It in, we have put ourselves, the essence of the Marauders. We have each chosen an item that we believe embodies ourselves individually, and the Marauders as a whole. We have agreed to keep these items secret from one another, and have placed a charm on this chest, that it may not be opened until all or all but one of us is gone. If all of us, this chest is here for anyone who finds it. _

_That may be you. If so, we hope this shows the magic that we know will overcome in the end – the magic of friendship. It is stronger than the evil that threatens us, strong enough to survive. It is a bond formed in love, and we know it will last. Let it live on in you._

"Who wrote this?" Harry asked when he was through reading it. "Was it all of you, or . . .?" He trailed off.

Remus smiled. "It was your mother, Harry. It was Lily. She always had a way with words."

"She could have passed that along," Harry muttered, startling Remus into a laugh. He clapped Harry on the back.

"We all made that wish at one time or another, come midnight before an essay was due."

"Even you?" Harry asked wryly, looking up at him.

"Well . . ." Remus conceded. "Not so much me, really. Occasionally, but not anywhere near as regularly as Sirius and your dad." Harry smiled and reached for Remus' compartment of the trunk.

"Tell me about yours, then. Since you're here." Nodding, Remus took the black velvet bag from him and upended it. A small gray lump slid out into Harry's hand.

"Silver?" he asked.

Remus nodded. "Bought it on my first trip to Diagon Alley, just before I started at Hogwarts. My mother didn't know; I purchased it with pocket money I'd saved."

"Why?"

Remus gave a wry smile of his own. "Silver to ward off the wolf, Harry."

"I thought that was just a myth."

"Oh, it is. Silver, in truth, has little to no effect on werewolves. But I felt better carrying it around in my pocket, as though I was doing something to further my cause. I stopped carrying it on my person once the others found out, but I always had it with me at school, in the room. Putting it in the capsule was symbolic for me. I saw it as saying I didn't need it anymore. With friends like these beside me, what did I need a talisman for? Anyway, that's what my note says, in nicer language, of course. Who next?"

"Do you know what the others put in? I mean, can you guess?" Harry wanted to know.

There was a moment's silence as Remus considered. "I have no idea what Sirius put in," he finally said. "Can't even guess. The others? . . . Yes, I think I might have an idea. But I don't know for sure, so let's find out." And he gestured for Harry to remove another black bag and letter. Harry hesitated for a moment before pulling out Sirius'. Inside the bag was what appeared to be a small, wilted branch of a tree. As Remus held it in his hand, it twitched as if, in another life, it might have had the strength to attack. Both Harry and Remus looked at it curiously, then at each other. It was clear that neither of them knew what it was. Harry opened the note, and they both leaned over it.

_I am Padfoot. Or Sirius, if you prefer. The thoughtless trickster, the impossibly good-looking, suave, debonair, charming young man. Or at least, that's what I used to think. I wanted to believe it, too. I wanted to think that I could always be that person, doing whatever struck my fancy and just talk my way out of trouble after. Boy, was I stupid. The worst part is, it took the most immensely stupid act of my life for me to realize it. I put my best friends in danger because of my immaturity and thoughtlessness._

Harry looked up. "Is he talking about . . .?" he asked.

"I think so," Remus said, looking slightly pained. They continued reading.

_That's the reason for the somewhat odd contribution. It's branch cut from the Whomping Willow. I have another branch with me. It always seems to fall in my line of vision when I'm getting ready to slip into thoughtlessness again. We grew up after it happened, we all did, and it was for the better. I guess this represents growing up. We all have to. The thoughtless trickster I used to be wouldn't be of any use in the coming fight. He'd probably get himself killed. Here's hoping I've learned enough to escape that fate. Here's hoping we all have. _

Harry looked up at Remus when he had finished reading. "He wanted so badly to prove himself," Remus said quietly. "Especially after . . . it happened. He wanted so badly to prove himself, to prove he had something to give. And, I think, though I'm not sure he realized this, to prove that he had the right to be a Gryffindor. Sirius' mantra was 'stay one step ahead.' That's what he was always trying to do – stay just one step ahead. And yet . . . he always found a way to do it with a smile on his face and a laugh at the ready. His humor could disarm people, and that's when, in school, the rest of us would strike with whatever prank. He always went for the laugh, and if his sense of humor was dark at times, well, that's because his life was, too." Remus sat, looking at the branch for a long moment, then he set it aside, smiled and said, "Next, Harry?"

Harry reached for Peter's letter and bag, determined to do as Remus had asked, and keep an open mind about whatever it would reveal. Out of the bag fell a strange, smoky piece of glass that made Remus gasp.

"I thought this might be it," he said. "It's lightning-made glass," he said, to answer Harry's unspoken question. "Lightning struck sand and made glass." Nodding, Harry looked to the letter.

_I am a rat. They call me Wormtail, and I am a rat. More so than they know. This is hard to write, as I don't know who will be reading this, nor under what circumstances. If my friends, I hope that the information I give here is already known, known because I have had the courage to speak up before the unthinkable happens. _

_I made a mistake a while ago, and I don't know how to fix it. I thought it was the right choice at the time, but now I wish I had not made it. I am leading a double life, and it is hard, because I am not clever enough to do it. I wish I could say I am a willing spy, for the side of the light. And, in some ways, I am. But I have betrayed that side, betrayed my friends to keep them safe. My service for their lives, that was the deal they made with me. I took it, for what was the point in nobly refusing? My own death I could handle. Theirs I could not. Only time will tell if I made the right choice._

_I wish I could, even now, go to them, beg forgiveness, but when I try to speak of this, I can't. It is clear to me now what I should have done. I should have gone straight to the others when they started contacting me. I should have gone and told Dumbledore everything, but I was determined to do something on my own for once, and not push my troubles and ineptitude on them yet again._

_My one comfort is that my weakness is keeping them safe. Sirius is their Secret-Keeper, I am not. They would never dream of making me Secret-Keeper, and this thought gives me the strength to go on. I cannot betray them. They are safe from me, from me and my horrible fear. I cannot hurt them. I can only pray that before this is all over, I will have escaped from his hold over me. Before this is all over, I hope I can be honest with them, and that I will have the right to ask for their forgiveness._

_This piece of glass was made by accident. A horrible accident, one terrifying moment in time that had the potential for awesome good or awesome bad. This piece of glass was born of that moment. It is shocking and misshapen and, some would say on first glance, ugly, with nothing to recommend it. But I urge you to look again. There is beauty in it, beyond the dark exterior. It is rough and clouded, perhaps, but there is still beauty and goodness in it. That terrifying moment of potential here turned out for the best. So may mine, in the end. _

And Harry could no longer be mad at Peter. _He was only twenty-one when he wrote this_, Harry thought. _People at twenty-one do not always make the best choices_. He could see from Peter's point of view now. Peter's sacrifice had not been so very different from Harry's mother's, in reality. Both had cared more for the safety of those they loved than their own. And then another thought struck Harry. _He gave his life for me, tonight. He made that sacrifice._

"He was fiercely loyal," Remus whispered, eyes closed. "Please, Harry, he–"

"I know," Harry said softly, and meant it. He waited for Remus to speak again.

"He – James and Sirius could have been friends with anyone they wanted," he said, eyes still closed. "And he knew it. But they chose him, their friend from before school. They chose him, and Peter . . . he knew he would never be as clever as they were. He knew it, and he was determined to deserve their friendship and not be a burden." Remus looked then at Harry.

"People underestimated him all the time because he was quiet. But," here Remus gave a little laugh, "he was the reason your dad and Sirius only spent half of their time in detention. James and Sirius . . . they would come up with an idea and rush to implement it, without thinking how the best way to do that might be, or how they were going to keep out of trouble. That was our job, Peter's and mine. We planned the pranks and came up with most of the more sophisticated ones. We bailed James and Sirius out of trouble all the time." Remus smiled, remembering. "He wasn't always the most courageous person, but when bravery was needed most, he had it. He was loyal. He just made a mistake. He would have written this the night before . . . he really did think they were safe from him."

Harry nodded. They sat in silence for a moment before Harry turned once more to the chest. He reached for his father's letter and velvet bag.

A book. His father had given a book. _Capturing the Seeker_, the cover read. _As seen by Lily Evans_. Harry heard Remus breathe in, and then out. When Harry turned to look at him, Remus was nodding.

"I thought so," was all he said.

_My name is James Potter,_ the letter stated. _I once told my wife, before she was my wife, that I really couldn't write very well at all. That was three years ago, and I haven't improved in that time. But she insists on this, so I will make the effort. _

_When I was young and egotistical, this same item may have been my choice, but for vastly different reasons. I do not choose this now because it focuses on me, but because it focuses on us. What we were, what we stood for, it is all within these pages, written by one who had no reason then to look on us kindly, yet did anyway. My name is James Potter, and I am a Seeker. At this moment, I seek peace and safety for my family and a childhood for my son as carefree and full of love as my own was. I seek, but I do not know where these things might be found. _

_But I have my friends and my wife and my son, and even those things are threatened. I remember what we had, once, and I know that friendship still holds. It lives in these pages. If you wish to know who the Marauders were and what they stood for, read. You will find us there. _

"My mother wrote this?" Harry asked, looking back at the book. Remus nodded.

"Yes, she did, and before I tell you about it, see what she put in." Nodding, Harry reach for the last black bag. Inside he found a black velvet box, and inside that was a ring. It was a silver ring and looked to be formed from two clasped hands. Harry opened her note.

_We wait. There is nothing to be done now but wait. We wait and we watch and we worry. And, worst of all, we don't know. There is so much we don't know. _

_The things we do know may not seem to be much. Strength, friendship, courage, love. Those things so very basic are threatened. We are faced with one who wants to see them die. And I think, How can I dare to bring my child into such a world? How can I leave my son to face this on his own? This world is no place for a child. It has nothing of childhood or innocence about it. _

_In idea, I write this letter to the world. In truth, Harry, my dear child, I write it to you. _Here, Harry felt a lump form in his throat. He swallowed and continued to read his mother's words._ I feel something I don't understand. I feel the worst is about to happen, and though it will be horrible for us, I know it will be so much worse for you. When I think of the horrors the future brings down on us, the one that hurts me most is what will happen to you when your father and I are gone. What will you think of us? Having left you before you had a chance to know us? _

_I cannot say why I feel so certain this will happen. Hopefully, you will read this and laugh, laugh at your mother's foolishness. Hopefully, that feeling which urges me to write this is only the overprotectiveness that comes with motherhood. _

_But I do not think it is. Somehow, I feel certain that we are leaving you to cope on your own. My dear child, know that this will never be true. If what I understand of the capacity of love is true, you will never be alone. I will always be with you. _

_Maybe you have been told that this capsule was my idea. If not, you are now so informed. And, yes, it was a way to preserve the ideals of the Marauders. But it was also this: a doorway to a mother's love._

_I do not know why I am so certain that you will survive what is coming and we will not. But I am. I am told by everyone around me that we are safe, as safe as human means can make us. That knowledge, however, does not stop me from writing this._

_As I pass this ring to you, I make it into a family heirloom. Your grandfather gave it to your grandmother, who passed it to her son, your father, who gave it to me. And now I pass it to you. It is a friendship ring, and, as James told me when he gave it to me, it holds whatever power the giver and receiver bring to it. If that is true, then this ring has accumulated enormous power over the years. Give it to the lady you care most about in the world, Harry, and may it protect the both of you with the love of two generations. _

_If you have grown up without me, Harry, know this now. No mother has ever loved her son more. No parents have ever given to a child more love than the love James and I give to you. If love is as powerful as they say, and I know it is, then you are as protected as I could wish for. I wish I could hold you so tightly that no one could ever rip you from my arms, but I know I can't. Even if I am there to see you grow up, at some point, I have to let you fight your own battles, as hard as that may be. _

_Don't push away the ones you love, Harry. You need them. Yes, the actual fighting of the battles must be done on your own, but going to fight those battles requires your friends around you. Know what you are fighting for, and don't lose sight of it. Don't ever let go. _

_I'm fighting for you. James and Sirius and Remus and Peter, we are all fighting for you. And there is nothing you can do that will not make us proud of you, my dear, blessed child. _

_If you hold enough love in your heart, you cannot fail and you cannot fall, because your heart will be too full of love to have any room for hatred, anger, or fear. Keep your heart clear of these and live each moment of your life for those who love you, and you will succeed. You will simply have no other choice. _

_I cannot guarantee that you will always win, and I cannot guarantee that your life will be free from trials and pain. And the sensible part of me not completely entrenched in motherhood knows this is good, for these things should not be guaranteed. _

_You are my son, my child. And I know I cannot give you all that you deserve. So I give you what I can, the most sacred part of me. I give you my love. I give you the love of your family and the symbol of that love, to be wrapped tightly around you and hold you as safe as it can. _

_Never doubt that this is true. You will never be alone, my love._

Harry looked up and away, trying and failing to blink back tears. "How did she know?" he whispered.

"She didn't," Remus said, softly. Harry looked at him. "She didn't need to know. Not in the way you mean, Harry. She was a mother. That was enough." Harry nodded, some part of him understanding.

"Tell me about them," he whispered.

"Where to start?" Remus asked, chuckling. "Their . . . relationship for six years was colored by their first meeting. Neither saw the other in the best light. Your mum had gotten into trouble on the train with a Slytherin, and your dad got her out of it. He saw someone who needed his protection and she saw someone who didn't think she could take care of herself. Which was a little true, I can imagine. I mean, I didn't know your dad at that point, but I can imagine he was . . . quite condescending. The first thing you'll read in that book is an account of that day. She said he was showing off for Peter and Sirius, and he probably was. 'I don't care what house I get put in, I just hope he's not in it' were her words, I think."

Harry started laughing.

"What?" Remus asked him.

"It's just . . . that's what Ron said to me about Hermione after we had first met her, almost exactly." Remus smiled and nodded.

"In a lot of ways, Ron and Hermione are very much like your mum and dad. In the sense that they seem to be quite oblivious to what is so obvious to the rest of us. Oh, it took us forever to convince James to change the way he acted around Lily, and it took us forever to convince Lily to admit that James had actually changed. Even once we had done that, it took us forever to convince your mother that she was actually in love with him, and to convince your dad that he shouldn't give up on her." They both smiled appreciatively at that for a moment, then Remus laughed and shook his head.

"What?" Harry asked.

"It's strange for me; I've already told you these stories." Harry look mildly confused.

"When? I don't remember."

"Oh, you wouldn't. You were only six, seven months old at the time." When Remus didn't elaborate, Harry said, "Well?" which made Remus laugh.

"You were seven months or so, like I said, and you wouldn't go to sleep. You weren't fussy or anything, you just refused to go to sleep. Your mum tried to rock you, feed you. You rocked, you fed, and were still wide awake. Sirius and Peter and your dad tried to wear you out with highly active rambunctiousness. Only succeeded in wearing out themselves. Not to mention getting you even more wound up. Lily was not pleased." Remus smiled and rolled his eyes at the memory. "Anyway, since they had all failed, I said I had an idea. I picked you up, took you to the bedroom and started telling you stories. About your mum and dad. Half hour later, you were out. Lily and James couldn't believe it. 'He's down?' your mum asked me. 'Out like a rock,' I said. 'How did you do it?' they wanted to know. I just looked at them both and said, 'Lily, James, your history would exhaust anyone.'" Harry laughed at the story, then grew pensive. He looked away, through the trees in the direction of the small cemetery.

"I wish I could have known them," he said. Remus reached over and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I wish you could have, too." Harry looked at him, looking as though he wanted to say something, but then thought better of it. He nodded instead. "Ready to go back?" Remus asked. Harry's eyes strayed toward the cemetery again.

"Just a moment?" he asked. Remus nodded.

"Of course." He turned to pack up the trunk while Harry stood and made his way toward the stones. Upon reaching them, he walked through the rows until he found the ones he wanted.

_James Robert Potter_, read one. _Lily Marie Evans Potter_, read the other, with dates underneath that were far too close together. Harry felt tears prick the corners of his eyes as he knelt silently before his parents' graves. A line from Peter's letter came to Harry's mind.

_I told James my fear, and he said it didn't matter. I asked him, "What if I fail?" He just shrugged and said "Oh, well."_

And another, from three years ago. _James would have understood, Harry . . . he would have shown me mercy . . ._

Would his father have forgiven Peter? Harry didn't know. There was so much he didn't know about the two people buried here, so much that he should have known, had a right to know. He wanted to say something, because he had a feeling that something was listening. But he didn't know what to say.

"I don't know how to do this," he finally whispered. He looked at the dates carved in the stones. "Seventeen shouldn't be about this," he said. "The fate of everyone's future shouldn't rest on the shoulders of one seventeen-year-old boy. You shouldn't be seventeen and die three years later, just as your life and another is starting. Remus is right; I'm angry. I should have had more. I should have had you. A dad to teach me how to ride a broom and how to get away with being late to classes and give me advice about girls. A mum to nag at me about getting work done and to worry about if I'm eating enough and to show me how to be sensitive. Parents to love me and be proud of me and protect me and show me what a family really is. Yes, I'm angry. I deserved that, and so did you. We were both robbed of it. And I'm going to fix that. I don't know how, but I promise I will fix things or I'll die trying. I know to do it, I can't let my anger control me. You told me that, mum. And so did Remus. But I don't know that I can _not_ be angry. I don't know how to not be angry. When I think of the things I should have had . . . Maybe some anger is good. Maybe some is what will keep me focused on what I'm fighting for. I think I need to keep a little anger because if I don't, I'll start to doubt myself. And I can't doubt. I have something to do, just like you did, and I'm not going to give up. Because you didn't."

He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll do it for you. So that no one else has to grow up without parents. So that no one else has to grow up alone and lonely. So . . . thanks," he said, reaching out to touch the names on each stone. "For loving me as much as you did and for what you've given me. I won't let you down." And he stood and walked to the edge of the trees where Remus was waiting for him, carrying the trunk.

"Let's go," Harry said.

The trip back happened in silence, both men lost in their own thoughts. They reached the edge of the Weasley's property in time for supper. Before they headed into the Burrow, Remus handed the trunk to Harry. When Harry tried to protest, Remus cut him off.

"I told you, Harry. It was always for you. Take it." So he did.

Once inside, Molly led Remus to the table, Harry promising to follow as soon as he had taken the trunk to his room. On the way to the table, Remus heard Harry warding off Hermione and Ron with a "Later, I promise. Later."

After supper, Remus tried to slip quietly away from the Burrow, but he had just started off down the drive when a voice called out his name. Turning, he was not at all surprised to see Harry standing in the doorway. "Thanks," he said. "For today. For everything."

"Of course, Harry." Then, he turned to leave again.

"Remus," Harry said again, this time actually crossing the lawn to where Remus stood. He looked as though he wanted to say this before he lost the nerve. "Remus . . . you're the closest thing to a father I've ever known," he said. The admission took Remus aback.

"I –" he started in surprise. Then he stopped, and looked down. "Thank you, Harry," he said softly.

"So . . . any advice?" Harry asked awkwardly but sincerely. Remus looked down at his best friends' son and thought about all he wanted to say. He had come so far, and Remus was so proud of him and all he had done.

"Don't do anything stupid, Harry," he said. "Don't feel as though you have to prove anything to anyone. To those that really matter . . . you've already succeeded. Your parents would be as proud of you as I am. Whatever happens . . . you won't let them down." He smiled at the boy. "You couldn't." Hesitantly, Harry nodded, unsure what to say next.

"I-" Then, instead of saying anything, Harry embraced Remus, an embrace which Remus returned wholeheartedly. "Thanks," Harry said into Remus' shoulder. Remus patted Harry's shoulder twice, and the embrace ended. Remus smiled at him and nodded, not needing to say anything more.

They turned to go in their respective directions then, when Remus thought of something. "Harry," he said. Harry turned back. "When you've read that book . . . come find me? There are more stories you should hear."

Harry nodded. "I will," he said.

"Talk to Ginny,"

Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled. "I will," he said.

"Remember," Remus emphasized. Harry almost laughed.

"I _will_," he said. And they parted for real this time.

Back in his room at the inn, Remus thought about the day. He thought about what he would tell Harry when the boy came to him tomorrow. He thought about his friends and how proud they would all be of Harry. Smiling, he pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and began to write down some of those thoughts.

* * *

Harry had avoided Ron and Hermione and gone to his room after Remus had left. He stayed up late into the night, reading his mother's words by the light of his wand.

_Once he sees what he has, once he sees what he has become and what he has achieved, he will stop drowning. He won't stop Seeking, because a Seeker never stops. But he will Seek higher heights and achieve higher dreams. Once he sees, he will live!_

A seeker never stops, she had written. He closed the book, setting it on the table by his bed. On top of it, he set his mother's letter and the ring. _Tomorrow_, he thought as he looked at them.

Tomorrow he would explain the day's events to Ron and Hermione. Tomorrow he would talk to Remus. Tomorrow he would learn more of his parents. Tomorrow he would work things out with Ginny and give her the ring. But tonight, he would keep company with his mother's words and his parents' love. Tonight he would remember. And it was enough for now.

It was interesting, he mused, lying back in the dark after extinguishing his wand. All his life, his parents had been little more than an abstract idea. He knew, of course, that they had been real people, but they had never quite seemed real to him. Maybe that was because he hadn't seen pictures of them until he was eleven. Maybe that was because, for so long, his parents had only been mentioned as 'the freak and that boy'. Then, from that extreme, he had moved to a world where his parents were tragic heroes. He'd had images and illusions of his parents all his life.

But now . . . now Lily and James Potter were real. They were real people with a history that was anything but dull. There had been a time in his life when he had hated them for dying and leaving him with the Dursleys. He had thought they hadn't cared enough about him to stay with him. He had learned a long time ago that wasn't true, but now he knew the extent. He had proof of how much his parents had loved him and loved each other. He had his mother's words written just for him. And he had gifts from the both of them, passed on to him. He had, after today, the gifts of the Marauders.

Wisdom. Laughter. Courage. Pride. Love. Were these really the weapons to combat the greatest evil the wizarding world had ever known? And did he, a seventeen-year-old boy, really have a chance? Something in him said yes.

He watched his curtains flutter in the night breeze, thinking about all these things. "What will come, will come," he whispered, echoing Hagrid's words from long ago. "And I'll meet it when it does." And he knew he would be able to.

As he drifted off to sleep, he thought maybe he felt someone, or someones, in the room with him. The presense was comforting, but whether it was there or not, he was never quite able to say.

* * *

It's done! Finished!

Did you like the end? Cause I was having major trouble with it. I had another idea, but as I started writing it, I found it was really really sappy and just . . . too melodramatic. But I don't know. OPinions?

Stayed tuned for more coming from the Seeker universe. I've got one coming with Remus and TOnks, (another) one with Petunia, and I'm even tying the Founders in. Thanks to all who have read!


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